First Mother's Day

This is the first Mother’s Day without Mom being here. It feels strange not having her here. Last year I made her a picture of a teddy bear’s picnic since she thought I should have one on my Farmville farm. Of course I had to put her Pixie in the picture. She was a first too. The first cat Mom ever had. This is the story of that historic first where dog loving Mom faces the realities of a black cat with mischievous gold eyes.

In the early Spring on 2006 my mother warned me to be careful driving on the driveway as a mother cat had given birth to four kittens in our storage shed. Mama cat was black and three of the four kittens were black, the fourth one was a smoky gray. Of course Mom wasn’t going to get fond of them at all. Of course anyone who believed that would probably buy a bridge sight unseen. Mom bought food for the mother cat so she could be close to her kittens and not have to forage for food. When the kittens got older Mom bought kitten food since the kittens needed good food to grow up healthy and strong. When mama cat had enough of this mothering thing Mom continued to feed the kittens because after all they were orphans now.

I learned to pay closer attention to Mom when I had dismissed her question of “would you like another cat?” I figured it was one of those generic questions about the litter we had outside and said “sure, maybe the gray one” figuring of course that she didn’t really mean that we should take one of the kittens in. After all I do have Merlin, the world’s biggest mama’s boy.

One morning as I came down to get my morning coffee a little black cat pranced out of my mother’s bedroom to greet me. I stared at her and asked “does Mom know you’re in here?” She looked back at me as if to say “do you know that this is my house?” When I asked Mom that afternoon when I came home from work she immediately put it down to me saying I wanted another cat. She later let it slip that this cat was the brave one of the litter and would come inside and explore. Mom feed her deli meat as treats and would hold her on her lap. She couldn’t figure out why the kitten didn’t want to go back outside any more. And so it came to pass that Pixie entered the household and quickly became the alpha cat. Merlin never stood a chance.

Mom declared that she wasn’t going to love the cat. She had her heart broken when her dog Ruffles died and she wasn’t about to go through that again. Pixie had other plans. I could tell from the start that Pixie had Mom wrapped around her little paw. Being responsible pet owners we had her spayed when she was old enough and Mom fretted the entire day since the cat would be kept over night. She was afraid that Pixie would be scared and think we had abandoned her. She was afraid something would go wrong with the operation and we would lose her. She was afraid that something would go wrong with the recovery and Pixie would be in agony. I knew that none of that would happen but then I have owned cats all my adult life.

There was the night that Mom came up in a panic because Pixie had gotten out and Mom was afraid that the wild animals would get her. She was afraid that Pixie would get lost and couldn’t find her way home. So I got up at midnight and threw a coat over my pajamas and went outside with a flashlight. I had to gently tell Mom to hush since I needed to listen for the bell on Pixie’s collar. I found her playing in the bushes and picked her up and handed her to Mom. I went to bed with the sound of Mom scolding the cat for worrying Grandmother. Grandmother? Right she wasn’t going to fall in love with this cat.

Pixie was an explorer. I had to go home on my break more then once because Mom couldn’t find her cat. I have found her in closets, under beds, under furniture that you have to be boneless to scoot under. One of her favorite hiding places was to zip into the basement and get into one of the crawl spaces. She loved to yell and listen to her voice echo. Mom was reduced to tears more then once because Pixie was in there and she wouldn’t be able to find her way out. She was crying and scared. Every time I enticed her back out I would hand her to Mom and get the wipes because the cat was covered in cobwebs and dirt. Every time Mom would scold her for worrying Grandmother.

One of my favorite moments was when Pixie pulled out Mom’s aloe vera plant for the umpteenth time and Mom sat her on the cabinet and proceeded to scold her. “Look at me young lady,” Mom said. “Did you pull out my plant? How many times have I told you to leave my plants alone?” I had to escape upstairs before I lost it completely. The look on Pixie’s face was priceless. She knew that she was going to be back in Mom’s good graces within a few minutes and she was.

I would call Mom every afternoon to see how she was. My workmates knew that I would get a Pixie report. Mom had finally admitted she loved her cat and every one would now know all about Pixie and how smart she was. How she was the brave one of the litter. How sweet she was, etcetera.

Mom died last May 26th. She had a very bad heart and we knew she was living on borrowed time. The last five years of her life was enriched by a mischievous little black cat with gold eyes. Pixie was with Mom when she died and stayed with her until my brother got home from work and discovered what happened. This little cat that Mom fell in love with returned the love to her and was with her for her last journey.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I miss you and so does Pixie.