The cat lady...

Scene, Winter 2003. I was telling then-FwaB Adam about my plans to adopt two cats from Judith Scofield's Save-A-Cat League in New York City. At the time Judith was 87, suffering from chronic heart disease and, before she died, wanted to find homes for the 40-plus rescued animals she sheltered in her Manhattan apartment. We had come to mutual attention via a string of intervening acquaintances; as a result, the brother/sister pair, two-year-olds deemed "capable of socialization," were to be transported to Boston via taxi-cab.

Perhaps it was because he is mildly allergic to dander, but Adam responded by shuddering:

"Karin, you will NOT become one of those cat ladies!"

(One of Those Cat Ladies Definition: Woman of a certain age who depends on her pets for own sense of well-being and enjoys their company alone, sometimes to social and psychological detriment.)

Last night I was one of those ladies, watching strung-out little Velvet run laps over the fireplace mantle. And the tops of the kitchen cupboards. And into the sink to lap milk-stained water out of a cereal bowl. Stopping only to make dry, hissing noises at Tusker if he walked in her path.

And this, hours after I paid $2300 ($2300!) to release her from the vet's office after 11 days of boarding, lots of intraveneous drugs and a quadruple tooth extraction. (Tusker, at least, only cost $363.)

I did not want to go to dive bar down the street to watch Celtics Lakers Game 6 in good company, as I had planned. I did not want to go for a run to release the stress. I did not want to troll match.com. I did not care if my two outlying match conversants wrote me or not. I did not want to water the impatiens.

All I wanted was to drown myself in raw spoonfuls of peanut butter and drink Fresca--which I did for four hours, even though I had already eaten supper AND dessert--and sit on the sofa, watching the kitties roam, contemplating the second job I now need to find because of the bad luck of Velvet's medical necessities coinciding with my 10-day vacation.

T & V. Look at these $2663 faces!