Editor’s note: Janet Salathiel is an animal lover, especially when it comes to cats, horses, and elephants. “I’ve owned many cats, dogs, and a horse,” she said noting, “For some reason, my husband wouldn’t let me have an elephant.”
As a diversion from the more serious aspects of contemporary life, we will present as space allows Janet’s “Cat Tales,” a series of short stories. But first, we’ll let her introduce herself, in her own words.
“I was born and raised in Michigan so am acquainted with winter snow. After I graduated from nursing school, I joined the Air Force to see the world and was sent to Amarillo, Texas. A year later I was transferred to Lubbock, Texas and met Steve. When he found out that I liked camping and didn’t mind getting my hair wet when I went swimming in the apartment pool, it was love at first sight. When he didn’t fuss about my not owning a TV (he didn’t have one either) and didn’t criticize my cooking I knew that Steve was the one. My cat, Pickie, greatly approved of him
After 51 years of married bliss and living mostly in the Lord’s state of Texas, Steve passed away. Six months later I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Six months after that I tripped and broke my left upper arm bone. I told people that since my left humerus was broken, my humor was now coming entirely from my right upper arm, so was a little off. Wanting to keep an eye on me in case I got into more trouble, my daughter who lives near Swisher with her husband and my two marvelous grandsons insisted that I move to Iowa to be closer to them. With the arm healed and the cancer gone I moved to Solon in 2021. While the Mexican food here isn’t as good (it needs more jalapeños), I discovered that the folks in Iowa are just as nice as the farming/ranching folks in Texas.
When I told a friend about the problems I had with my cat, Gnocchi, while in the process of moving to Solon, she laughed and said that that story would make a good book for children so Nearly Factual Cat Tales was born. Except for changing the human names, the stories are true, including the 2 about Louise, our ghost.”
Pickup of Texas
Hello, my name is, well, cats have a lot of names but you may call me Pickup, the name the humans I first looked after gave me. I am an elegantly attractive, tiger striped, trim, stump tailed, intelligent, Texas born and raised, American domestic short hair, Manx feline. Feline is a fancy word that means cat and comes from the Latin word Felis which, of course, means cat. I was born in a tiny auto repair shop in Amarillo, a city in the Texas panhandle, and rose to the peak of my career through hard work, study and paying attention to duty.
As soon as I could crawl out of the box I shared with my mother and litter mates in a corner of the shop I ventured into the great unknown, like the space under the desk in the tiny repair shop office. That was rather boring…and smelly. If you’ve ever smelled grease, oil and automotive chemicals all in one place you know what I mean. One day a lady walked in and ooh’d and aah’d over me and my litter mates. Especially me. The nice man who made sure mother always had food and water asked her if she wanted a kitten. Recognizing my superior intelligence, intellect and moral qualities she immediately whisked me away to the roomy apartment she shared with four other human ladies. The apartment had lots of closets where I would hide then jump out at unsuspecting people as they walked by. My human, I call her Oops because she kept tripping over things, didn’t know what to name me. One of her roommates suggested Pickup because she picked me up on her way home from the Air Force base.
Mother taught us that every worthwhile cat earned her keep by mousing, chasing rats and dogs or catching birds. Since there were no rats, mice, dogs or birds in the apartment, I had to figure out what my life’s vocation should be. After days of intensive meditation it came to me. The five humans I lived with would go out with the males of their species on dates. In my estimation all of those males were less than desirable. It was clear that my job was to protect them from unworthy males. Usually, I hissed and spat at them to get the point across but one was so arrogant, I had to bite him to deflate his ego. He tasted terrible. When Oops came in from work he complained about me. Oops immediately understood the situation and replied, “don’t worry, she’s had all of her shots so you won’t get sick.” Then she went and did something that no self-respecting cat would ever do. She went to her room, undressed, turned on the shower and got in under all that water. My record for culling the human males was perfect until Oops spoiled it by dating a male I detested. Nothing I did: hissing, spitting and growling convinced her that he was no good.
One day everyone began moving their things out of the apartment. Oops said that since we were in the military we were being reassigned. That happens a lot. Oops and I were sent a hundred miles south to Lubbock, Texas. I was happy because that would separate her from her obnoxious boyfriend. We stayed with two other human females in very cramped quarters for two days until Oops found a tiny apartment across from the university. In order to break up the monotony of unpacking and moving in, I sat on her shoulder and took her to get a soft drink from the machine downstairs every couple of hours. She really didn’t like soft drinks (too much sugar) but we were hoping to meet someone, anyone.
The third time out we met Sam who was returning from the library. He was handsome for a human and, as you humans put it, had good vibes. Just as I was focusing my full attention on getting Oops and Sam together, the two males, Short Stop and Stilts, who lived at the other end of the hall came down to introduce themselves. Having decided that Sam would be an excellent mate for Oops, I didn’t want her distracted. Besides, I had a hard enough time getting rid of Obnoxious and didn’t need any more male humans to contend with. Short Stop was engaged so wasn’t a problem. Stilts wasn’t. Seeing as how Oops was the only human female on the second floor, I had my work cut out for me. I am very quick with my reflexes and do an admirable job of defending myself, my family and my territory. To be fair, I NEVER pick a fight and always give a three second warning to whatever crosses me. It’s their fault if they don’t listen. One day Stilts came to my apartment while Sam, Oops and I were having tea and fresh baked cookies. I warned Stilts away but he grabbed my front legs in one hand, put his other hand under my backside and lifted me up to eye level. I warned him a second time. I don’t usually do that but since he was on friendly terms with Oops and Sam I thought it only fair to grant him a second chance.
Stilts said, “I’m going to make friends with you yet!” Actually, I cleaned up his language in case children are reading this. We stared at each other. I judged the distance between us and bided my time. He drew me closer to his face. Perfect! I pulled free and raked him across the nose with a right cross. He dropped me and returned to his apartment bleeding. Oops commented that it was a good thing Stilts was wearing glasses. I am a good cat and take pride in my work. After all, mother always said that any job worth doing is worth doing right.