From
the Correspondence of
Lady
Farah Guinivere von Einstein Katz and
Caesar
Lancelot Sellars vander Cloar Cat, Esquire.
Translated
from the Meowish. Found on slips of
Parchment
Paper after I'd baked cookies.
Copyright Valentine's Day 2005
Copyright Valentine's Day 2005
A few
years ago, my younger daughter promised to become the guardian of three cats.
They belonged to her college sweetheart, who was leaving for Airborne School,
and who would soon be parachuting as a Ranger over Iraq. The two older cats, a
male gray Tabby/Persian and a female beige-to-dark brown miniature Norwegian
Forest Cat (or Maine Coon), had been together a couple of years, and her
sweetheart had also adopted a male sleek black Domestic Shorthair kitten who
seemed to need a home just before the orders came. My daughter's apartment roommate
already owned a grown female cat of her own who was used to city life. We
already owned a male white-with-butterscotch Flame Point Tabby, who had been
born in the city but was now used to farm life, so we decided to group the
males here on the farm where they could explore to their hearts' content. What
we hadn't counted on was how the two older cats who had been a couple would
grieve for each other when separated.
At about that time I noticed that the parchment paper I always used for cookies and tarts would show up in little torn bits in strange places. Bits of parchment paper somehow found their way into the weekend picnic basket I would pack for my daughter to take back to the college. Then bits would seem to return in the clothes she packed to come home. We noticed the bits usually had scratches on them, and there seemed to be a pattern or code to the scratches. Later, when the two cats were reunited on the farm, I still found notes occasionally. I've tried to translate as many as I could. Some were beyond my translating abilities and, of course, there were many notes I never found. Still, the notes I managed to translate provide a lasting picture of their enduring love for one another.
At about that time I noticed that the parchment paper I always used for cookies and tarts would show up in little torn bits in strange places. Bits of parchment paper somehow found their way into the weekend picnic basket I would pack for my daughter to take back to the college. Then bits would seem to return in the clothes she packed to come home. We noticed the bits usually had scratches on them, and there seemed to be a pattern or code to the scratches. Later, when the two cats were reunited on the farm, I still found notes occasionally. I've tried to translate as many as I could. Some were beyond my translating abilities and, of course, there were many notes I never found. Still, the notes I managed to translate provide a lasting picture of their enduring love for one another.
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