“Look at this,” Mike said walking in one day. He carried in a small tiger-striped kitten under his arms. I knew our daughter Jessie would just love it.
Mike said, “I walked into the garage to deliver car parts and I saw two kittens, this one walked right up to me. And the guys there said, “Why don’t you take that thing home with you. It’s been hanging around all week.”
I looked at the green eyes and beautiful coloring.
Mike saw my hesitancy. Though I myself had a few pets growing up, I also knew what a responsibility they were. But I caved, the cat could stay.
Mike placed the kitten on an end table, waiting for Jess to see her.
And after she shrieked with joy she asked, “Can I keep it?”
What will you call her? we wanted to know.
“Puddie,” she said. “Just like when tweetie pie would say, “I taut I taw a Puddie cat.”
Puddie it was. She adapted easily to us. Or should I say we succumbed to her desires. From the time she moved in, we quickly learned who was in charge.
Some images surface when I think of Puddie. The first time I made popcorn and she bombarded around with every pop, as if she was dodging bullets. Off the couch, into the blinds, over to a chair.
The way she slept underneath the Christmas tree looking up at the lights.
The way she would bop Jessica in the head and then run away. I believe Puddie thought they were sisters.
We loved Puddie. Later as she got older and lost control of her bladder we gave her to someone with a lot of land. It’s hard when you rent. When we visited her we almost couldn’t recognize her reduced waistline. No longer was she eating whenever she felt like it. Instead she got plenty of exercise.
And when we moved we knew we might never see her again. Tears were shed, and still are when we think of her.
I’m writing about Puddie because I recently read a book, Cats are Better than Dogs. I know Puddie would have loved this book. She thought she was better than everything. Certainly better than my brand new Loveseat she peed on the first day I had it. Much better than that.
Don’t tell anyone, but I miss Puddie. I miss her soul-full eyes when I would be sad. Eyes that looked right through me. I missed the hours of entertainment we had watching her antics. I miss the way she loved Jess, sitting there as Jess dressed her up.
Puddie seemed to say, “how long do I have to take this?”
Yes, Puddie would have loved this book, and you will too. So check out Cats are Better than Dogs, and whether you’re a cat lover or a dog lover, you will find yourself smiling.
Just like I do when I think of Puddie.