Once upon a time, we had three cats. There was Monty, the Gunslinger; Tigger, the Lover; and Kitty, the Outcast. They were all outdoor cats--owing to my mortal allergy to feline creatures--and they did a fine job of surviving the wilds of unincorporated Elburn for nearly 20 years. Monty and Tigger were expert mousers and kept the area clean of troublesome rodents who otherwise would have wintered in our home and leaving trails of poop in drawers and cabinets for us to find.When Monty, the oldest and the longest-living, died, the mice came back.
Not only had the mice come back, but so too had the birds and the chipmunks and the squirrels and the rabbits. After a year or two, we had all manner of wildlife traipsing merrily through our backyard. Last fall, an industrious chipmunk that had taken residence under a hedgerow near the house, scurrying back and forth across the patio sussing out nuts and who-knows-what-else to keep him fat and warm through the winter. Skylar, our Maltese, growled viciously at it through the sliding glass door, but that little chipmunk ignored the dog, doggedly determined to fulfill its mission.
For the first time since we'd moved here, the backyard had become a lively sanctuary of happy -go-lucky critters.
A few months ago, our next-door neighbors brought home two young kittens. They're meant to live outdoors during the day, only. Since the local coyote pack has been blamed for the mysterious disappearance of many cats and small dogs in the area, these two furry friends are brought indoors at night. They're fed and cared for by their owners.
One of these cats, the orange Tabby, looks and behaves weirdly like Gunslinger Monty had as a youngster. They other cat, a grey, behaves weirdly like Monty's B-personality brother, Tigger. Both of these cats saunter through our yard, around the barn and the house, trying to sneak in just as Monty and Tigger had. The orange did stealth his way past my dad one day, and had to be flushed out of the basement ceiling. They lounge in our hedges and saunter casually across our 1/2 acre as if they belong here. As if... well, as if they were Monty and Tigger reincarnated.
Can cats reincarnate? If I had to base my answer on the behavior of these two, I would be forced to admit that, Yes, cats do reincarnate because these two--and I would bet a past life on it--are surely our Monty and Tigger in newer, younger bodies.
It's a little disconcerting, to be honest.
As cats will do, they pretty much stay out of trouble around here. And of course, using our place as their hunting ground they also will keep the mice at bay this winter, and that's always a good thing. However, I've noticed a decline in the population of gentle wildlife since they've claimed our space as their own. Once again, there are fewer birds, no more bunnies, and worst of all, no more cute little chipmunk scurrying back and forth across our patio driving Skylar bonkers.
When I inquired after the little critter a while back, Dad told me he'd seen it being chased by Monty II up the Chinese Elm in front of our patio. But that was a good two months ago, and I haven't seen the little guy myself since May. I'm sad to think Monty II & Co have since eaten him, and Chippy is now fertilizing a remote section of our property. Poor li'l Chippy. And I think Skylar misse
s him, too.So, while I have nothing against these cats, per se--and I'm grateful that the mouse problem is now taken care of--I am mildly put off by their ease and familiarity as they strut around, as if they've been here before. Like they own the place. And I'm very unhappy that cute little creatures no longer romp in the grass for me to smile at and take delight in.
I don't altogether mind the cats being here, I just wish they'd leave the wildlife alone. Isn't that what kitty kibble is for, anyway? The cheeky things.
