[NFBC-SFV] The Cat's Meow story

Joy Stigile joystigile at gmail.com
Sun Mar 4 04:27:07 UTC 2018


Hi,

I just had to pass on this very interesting and cute story about a fellow
Californian Federationist cats.

Warmly, Joy

 

BRAILLE MONITOR

 

Vol. 61, No. 3March 2018

 

Gary Wunder, Editor

 

[PHOTO CAPTION: Lauren Merryfield]

 

https://nfb.org/images/nfb/publications/bm/bm18/bm1803/bm180316.htm

 

Definitely the Cat's Meow

 

by Lauren Merryfield

 

>From the Editor: It is frustrating to realize that the sighted public

 

has real reservations about the ability of blind people to parent, but it

 

is also interesting to see that they have questions about how we take care

 

of our pets. Lauren Merryfield has no reservations about getting down and

 

dirty when it comes to talking about the care of her pets. It is obvious

 

that she is a cat lover, and it is also obvious that there is truth in the

 

saying that "Dogs treat you like royalty; cats treat you like staff."

 

Here's what Lauren has to say:

 

I received my first kitten, a yellow-and-white kitty I named Fuzzy,

 

when I was around seven years of age. Back then, our cats were mostly

 

outdoor, so they came and went through the years, some of them not lasting

 

all that long. Eventually, a select few would find their way into our home

 

and be allowed there.

 

After my first husband and I moved to our home, we received a kitty

 

as a housewarming gift. We had her for fourteen years. She eventually went

 

blind and needed insulin due to diabetes. No one commented all that much

 

back then about how I managed with cats, because there was almost always

 

someone around. But now that I am widowed and living alone, the questions

 

come:

 

"How do you know where your cats are?" Most of the time, if they're

 

quiet and/or sleeping, I might not know where they are, but this does not

 

bother me. Cats do not always want their humans to know where they are.

 

When they want attention or food, they'll show up.

 

"How do you get them in their carriers when you take them to the

 

vet?" I know my cats so I can often guess where they are. I pick them up,

 

and as they squiggle, I put them into the carrier. No, you do not have to

 

see to get your cat into its carrier. They may protest, but how does a

 

sighted person put their cat into the carrier when it is protesting?

 

"How do you know when your cat is sick?" If the urine has a pungent

 

odor, I know one has a urinary tract infection. If they leave evidence of

 

an upset tummy, I know. If they are too warm, I know. When my Maryah was

 

panting due to difficulty breathing with fluid in her lungs, I knew. If

 

Toby isn't pestering me and is not sleeping, but hiding, then I know. Cats

 

hide when they are ill so that is the number one means I have of knowing

 

when they are ill and need help.

 

I discover when they do not need help also. When I took Laynie in to

 

be spayed, resulting in an overnight stay, I put a soft kitty bed on the

 

floor where she could get to it easily. I even put a few treats there so

 

she could find them easily. After showing obvious happiness in being back

 

home after her overnight stay, I suddenly observed her climbing the patio

 

screen. As she was hanging there playfully, I realized that she would be

 

dictating how much pampering she would or would not receive from me.

 

"What do you do if your cat has a fur ball?" Almost always, my cats

 

through the years have made it a practice to let their fur balls fly in my

 

pathway so that I will find them. I just clean them up. I usually go

 

barefoot at home so that I have a better chance of finding something on the

 

floor that needs attention.

 

"How do you keep from tripping and falling on your cats' toys?" I

 

walk gingerly. I probably shuffle some of the time. Going barefoot once

 

again comes to my benefit in locating cat toys on the floor. When they are

 

playing with them, I can hear where the cat and the toy are.

 

"What if another cat comes in from the outside?" Yes, that has

 

happened. One day my kitty at the time started growling and hissing. I

 

couldn't figure out what was going on at first until I heard similar sounds

 

coming from under the dining room table. A neighbor's cat had climbed up to

 

our balcony and when I opened the door, he/she sneaked in. Sneaking did not

 

last long.

 

"How do you clean the cat box?" This may seem gross, but not only do

 

I use a pooper scooper, but also, I often use my hands covered with a glove

 

or a sandwich-sized bag to make sure the cat box is clean. This is not any

 

worse than changing a baby's diaper.

 

The question I am asked most often is: "How can you tell your cats

 

apart?" This is an easy one for me. I am sometimes surprised that someone

 

would even ask. I know them by their tails, by their body shape, by their

 

meows, by the bell on their collar if they are wearing one, which toy(s)

 

they are playing with, because they have favorites, and by what they are

 

doing. If I hear one slamming the kitchen cupboard doors under the sink, I

 

know it's Toby. When something was knocked down, it was Maryah. When a cat

 

sneaked out and was gone for two or three days, it was Maryah.

 

I remember the times when I would leave a Braille note on the table

 

and later find it on the floor, with "kitty Braille" added to it, and I

 

knew it was Kitten Kabootle, our Himalayan.

 

When one meowed in such a way that it went up at the end like a

 

question, I knew it was Laynie. When I could hear a cat meowing frantically

 

from the window when I'd come home, I knew it was Jaspur. I similarly knew

 

it was him when he got out one Halloween night and he was a totally black

 

cat-not a good combination, Halloween and black cats. One meowing in a high-

 

pitched tone, getting louder if I do not respond immediately is Toby. He is

 

so gifted with his meows that I sometimes find myself responding to

 

scolding or whining. He is the only cat I've ever had who does this. If I

 

hear unwanted chewing, it is Toby. If I hear excessive scratching in the

 

wrong place, it is Laynie. One who often spoke in two meows, "meow meow,"

 

was Melissa. When I hear a crash from the trash can being tipped over it is

 

Toby.

 

Some people, including some blind people, would say that a blind

 

person cannot be owned by a cat, however, I totally disagree. Cats always

 

figure out that I cannot see, however, they do not go into fear-mongering

 

as some humans do; they just work around it. Two of my cats would stand

 

with a small object I dropped, holding it between their front paws until I

 

located the cat, and then the item. They know that I touch the seat of my

 

chair before I sit down to prevent having a flat cat. They trust me to take

 

care of them, and how much I can or cannot see is not part of the equation.

 

They show the same unconditional love toward me whether I can see or not.

 

At times, when I am asked questions that are born of doubt, I feel

 

like it is definitely not the cat's meow. However I also realize that these

 

are opportunities to stop and educate someone. For them to go uneducated

 

about what a blind person can do would definitely not be the cat's meow.

 

But when they discover how I live the life I want with my cats, then it is-

 

yes-the cat's meow!

 

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