Thursday, July 19, 2012

Hunting Hands and The Name Game

Gramma likes her gardens. She lets me come outside with her and play. I like to hide and watch her hand as she pulls the things she calls weeds out.

I stay very still and hold my breath ......... then when she least expects it, I jump up and pounce on her hand!

It is great fun. Well, I thought so, anyway. Gramma says that I am trampling her flowers and she will not tolerate it. Flowers, weeds, they all look the same to me. Papa agrees with me, but said I should not tell Gramma that. Gramma tells me to stop with the trampling, then she says that I should consider myself warned ........ then she tosses me out of her garden with a handful of weeds. Papa says she is being cruel to me, but she reminds him that my mom cat would do the same thing to teach me things and that he should just be grateful that she does not bite me back when I bite her.

I thought about that. Her teeth are bigger than mine .......... and while it is true that mine are very sharp and hers are not, I don't think I want her to bite me! Her jaws are a lot bigger than mine and it would hurt. I try very hard not to bite Gramma. I just bite Papa. He puts his hand over my face and tells me "NO". Pretty painless

As I hid in Gramma's garden, the one with those tall plants that she calls "tiger lilies", I happened to see this big cat. Gramma told me that tigers were cats, and that she found it ironic that I chose to hide in the tiger lilies, so I wondered if this was a tiger. This cat, that I think may be a tiger, is the same color of the flowers that bloom at the top of theses tiger lily stalks.

I watch this cat that just might be a tiger. He looks familiar to me, this big cat. I almost fall asleep hiding in the tiger lilies and thinking very hard about this big cat. I know I have seen him somewhere. I close my eyes and concentrate. I remember being in the woods when I was very small. I remember the smell of the trees and the dirt and my mom cat. I would lay close to her as she fed me and licked me and purred.

I would listen to my mom cat talking to another cat while I would be falling asleep next to her. I think it might have been this cat, that might be a tiger. My eyes were not open long before I came to live with Gramma, but I think I have seen this tiger cat before!

I called out to him and he turned to look at me. It is him!! "Wait, wait!" I called. "Don't you remember me?" "My name is Martha." "You know my mom cat! Have you seen her, does she miss me?" He looked at me and then he saw Gramma and he walked away.

I was very sad. I heard Gramma call out to him, too. She said his name was Tigger and that she had some food for him. But he ran back into the woods. I guess he must not be hungry.

Gramma called me and I came out from under a plant she calls a hosta. I can hide really good under that plant!

Gramma asked me if I had seen the cat she calls Tigger. She told me that he was my step-father. I must have looked confused, because she told me that my real father was a gray tabby, that showed up one day to see my mom cat. She said that this gray tabby had gotten into a fight with Tigger and claimed my mom cat as his wife. She said my mom cat's name was Pooh.

At first I thought she said "poop". I was thinking that Gramma was not very nice, naming my mom cat that, but then she said it again. She said that Tigger and Pooh were the names of cartoon characters and that she liked the names. I have just one question ....... does Gramma name everything? 

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