Tuesday, May 27, 2003
Did I mention we're babysitting a friend's cat for the next week? She's off to Germany to attend her sister's wedding (ahem...our friend, not the cat), so we're currently in custody of a rather overweight and quirky black cat named Noe. That's pronounced No-eee - it's supposed to be French for Christmas, but I thought that was Noel - and logistically, it's a problem when you want to tell the cat "NO". Think about it...every time you say "NO", it sounds almost like the cat's name.
With his shiny, silken fur and ample hindquarters, this feline looks for all the world like an extremely large, ripe eggplant - the sort you'd find in an Italian grandmother's garden in Central New Jersey, except with a tail and rattler-like fangs he likes to display a little too often.
This cat is a riot. He's distraught for about 24 hours when he first arrives at our apartment, attacking our feet as if they were giant Roman centurions about to stomp his royal fatness into the parquetry. Like a perimeter alarm, Noe emits a sharp warbling screech if we move in closer than the cat-specified 5 feet or so.
He doesn't like our loud, stolid, cataract-eyed and cow-shaped cat Nathaniel much better than he likes us during that time - but he simply adores Nathaniel's prescription low-residue food, to the point of gorging himself and getting constipated. C'est la vie...that's one less litterbox to clean. Eventually, Noe becomes moderately charming after about 48 to 72 hours - and then attaches himself semi-permanently to our bedroom comforter until it's time for Mom to take him home.
Ah, Noe...a prime specimen of bad cattitude.