07-060
You Shouldn’t Have
(Really)
The selfless generosity of domestic cats has been widely
acknowledged by the leading lights in veterinary science. There does not need
to be a special occasion -- or even any occasion at all -- for a cat to
surprise its owner with a whimsically charming, uniquely inspired gift. Cats
are, one might say, a veritable Hallmark store of eviscerated rodent, bird and
amphibian carnage.
“Why, Mittens, a decomposing frog torso!” I exclaimed to my
own little Pollyanna just last week, as she proudly graced my bare foot with
the festering remains of a creature for which it clearly had not been easy being green. “You shouldn’t
have! You’re too kind.”
I haven’t always had the grace to react appropriately to
Mittens’ gifts. The first time she lavishly presented me with a very thoughtful
disemboweled opossum (it never would have occurred to my husband to give
me something like that!), I must admit my first reaction was to let out a
rather tactless scream. Poor Mittens was so alarmed, she dropped the
non-refundable item (subsequently breaking it!) and ran off into the woods.
Then I read a very useful article by an eminent cat expert,
informing me of the boundless respect and affection my cat wished to convey
through the half-eaten lizard entrails draped lovingly across my pillow as I
slept. I realized that I had been going about this all wrong.
“Never scold your cat for bringing you gifts!” The article
chided. “You should simply thank her and discreetly remove the ‘gift’.”
Once I understood my crass wrong-headedness, I wasted no
time in thanking Mittens profusely the next time she presented me with a
blood-oscillating chipmunk head. I didn’t even tell her that I already had the same exact thing in a different color.
I must say, though,
that for all her unsolicited big-heartedness, Mittens really doesn’t really
understand what I like. Granted, legless, still-moving crickets are nice and
all, but they’re really not my style. I can’t help but wish that Mittens would
bring me a gift certificate for a pedicure, maybe, or some nice perfume (hint,
Mittens: my birthday’s coming up.)
But I know that Mittens is a creative, free-thinking type,
and probably scorns the predictability of such clichéd gifts. No doubt she
already went ahead and splurged on the mud-encrusted mouse hindquarters. I’m
sure I can find a use for that, too (I have to give Great Aunt Madge something for Christmas!) The fact is,
when it comes to my cat’s home-unmade baubles, it’s the thought that counts
(yesterday, the thought was “ant-covered snake carcass”).
I just wish Mittens would understand that there’s nothing
wrong with treating herself to a detached badger eyeball every now and
then; she’s worth it!
Well, there’s always the hope that Mittens will eventually
graduate to a full deer head with antlers. Now that’s a disembodied animal part I can use! It’ll
be perfect for the family room above the bar. Merry Christmas to you, too,
Mittens!