Tango, my champagne tabby, came from ARF (Animal
Rescue Foundation). A highway worker found
her on Highway 60, between Bartlesville and Nowata, and brought her in a year
ago last spring. I adopted her in November.
When
I first got her, Tango wanted constant attention. If I sat down, she was on my lap. Well, not exactly. Her idea of lap sitting was stretching out across
me right under my chin. That was,
admittedly, better than the in-the-face sneezes from one end and the stinky
farts from the other.
Sometimes I wonder if no one taught her how to be a
cat. For instance, she likes to lay on
the floor at my feet, just as a dog would.
Though I have never owned a dog, I have had many cats in my life over
the years and none of them ever laid at my feet waiting for my attention. She also comes when called, though she doesn’t
believe in obeying other commands unless they are reinforced by the presence of
a certain spray bottle. What’s more, she
does not jump or step into cardboard boxes—she doesn’t even seem tempted to. Instead, she chews onardboard and shoes and
thin electrical cords.
Every morning, Tango scratches at my bedroom door
within seconds of me getting up, often even before I turn on the light. She wants breakfast, of course. Early on, before I found a dry cat food that
did not upset her sensitive stomach, the food would go down and then come right
back up. Thus, I started the unfortunate
habit of feeding her four tiny meals a day, a practice she appreciates that I
hope to discontinue someday. However, I
am a sucker for her persistent pleas for food at the appointed hours.
She does have a lovely, soft meow and an expressive
purr. She has claimed most windowsills as
her territory but has kindly not jumped up on the kitchen counters yet. She enjoys playing with and eventually eating
any unfortunate insects or spiders she sees and even catches flies.
So maybe she is more cat than dog after all.
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