For KAFFE: A Bridge Called Love

[kaffe]

Another life-long pattern of behavior was established around about this time - what I call Kaffe’s Midnight Kitty Patrol.  He loved to drink water, preferable from a small pail kept in the bathroom or - if I’m not nearby to stop him -  from the fishpond (later, it would be from proper glass bowls).  Thus armed with water, he would walk around the grounds late, late at night, meticulously inspecting and sniffing every corner, stopping now again to spray suspicious spots.  Well, actually, he would spray and spray and spray – plants, rocks, tree trunks, fencing...   Kaffe’s Kitty Patrol was one of the highlights of his day and survived numerous house moves.    The curious thing was he never sprayed indoors, no matter what house we currently lived in.



Kaffe’s love of spraying will later take on a special significance for me, which I shall share when we reach the end of our story. 

[kaffe]

One of the most enjoyable and heartwarming aspects of feline companionship is the privilege of observing their absolute abandon at play and expressions of the JOY of Being.  True, this can get a mite too exuberant as in the case of Kaffe’s Merry-Go-Round-the Bed episode.  I had bought myself a brand new bed sheet set and couldn’t wait to dress the bed with them.  With great excitement, I pulled the bed to the middle of the room in order to fit the sheets properly.  Kaffe sensed my excitement and watched with curiosity as I first fitted the bed skirt.  As I stepped back to admire it, Kaffe came over to “check it out,” sniffing and gingerly pawing.  I said, “Isn’t it beautiful, Kuff-Kuff?”    He suddenly dropped to his side on the floor. Digging the claws of all fours onto the fabric of the bed skirt to acquire leverage, he pulled and dragged his whole body along the polished floor, and thus slid and propelled himself round and round the perimeter of the bed.  “Kaffe, stop!” plead I, but he just went faster.  After 4 or 5 sliding laps around the bed, he stopped, looked at me with an expression that said: “See that? Hmmm?  wadya think? hmmm?”  When all I could do was gape at him, he went for another 2 or 3 laps, claws and legs working furiously!  Needless to say that by the time this feline exhibition was done, my new bed skirt was virtually in shreds!  I remember thinking with great deliberation: “Should I get angry?  But how can I place a sheet above the joy de vivre of a living being?”  And so, I ended up admiring his claw-work.



Kaffe’s claws... next to his tail, his claws are the most memorable to me.  He had the habit of digging them in when I carry him and using them to fend off hands that would force him to take something noxious like medicine.  He did not scratch on purpose; he just never learnt to sheath in his claws, even with me.  I got so very used to this that it often surprised me when people brought my attention to fresh scratch marks on my arms or shoulders.  Later on, I was able to teach him to ease his claw-grip when I gently tap his paws.

[GreyGhost]

This is awesome. I really enjoyed reading about your journey with Kaffe. What a wonderful experience.

[kaffe]

It occurred to me that life could get considerably better if I learnt to trim Kaffe’s claws and so this got incorporated into the Kitty Grooming To Do List. The only one in that list that Kaffe truly enjoyed was coat brushing.  He luxuriated in these sessions and the brush he especially liked was my round hairbrush, which became his own special brush. He would pad excitedly to me whenever I tapped that round brush on the floor to signal grooming time.  It is now in the box that contains his favorite things.



Cats are fastidiously clean creatures, spending a fourth of their waking hours primping and grooming themselves.  This is why it is generally said that cats do not need to be bathed.  While Kaffe certainly did a very good job in keeping himself clean, there were times he needed extra help.  As we were in Manila and because he had access to the outdoors, and because he often insinuated himself where he should not, he needed “extra help” fairly often.   I would bathe him in the tiny tiled bathroom, baling warm water over him as he mewed, shrieked and howled his disapproval.  Bathing became easier as he got more used to it, but in the early years, he always reproached me with his eyes: “What have I done to deserve this?”

[kaffe]

Then I bought a stereo, enjoying full-bodied sound once again. It was wonderful working in my little book-lined office with Kaffe playing on the rug or napping on top of a bookshelf with music playing in the background!  Albert Schweitzer said, "There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats."  To this I might add books... music, books and a cat... I tell you there  is no paradise on earth for me better than this.  I would look up now and again from whatever it was I was doing to observe Kaffe and appreciate the music and a feeling of utter contentment and happiness would grip me.  And like most cats, Kaffe enjoyed music – classical music mostly. 




He would cock back his ears towards the speakers when he heard something he liked.   How tempting to wish to have stayed in that book-lined room with Kaffe and music  forever!  

[kaffe]

A sampling of some of the pieces we played often then takes me back to that golden time:



Music for romping:

Contradanza,  V. Mae
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUDhA4hXdS8

Toccata and Fugue, Bach
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jey-OmaKUM

Prelude in Gm, Rachmaninoff
http://www.imeem.com/theveed/music/7Z4PzpmD/rachmaninoff_prelude_in_g_minor/

Der Holler Rach, Mozart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA5SfN6GpVs



Music for relaxing:

Viens Mallika, Delibes
http://www.imeem.com/classicalmusic3/music/4j68Lod5/alain_lombardmady_mespldanielle_milletparis_operacomiqu/

Pie Jesu,  Andrew L. Webber
http://www.imeem.com/popmusic8/music/ZWohv8IO/sarah_brightman_pie_jesu/

Panis Angelicus,  Franck
http://www.imeem.com/jukeboxmusic12/music/VgH0xpMc/charlotte_church_panis_angelicus/

Vocalise, Rachmaninoff
http://www.imeem.com/almiro/music/xeaZyxaX/renee_fleming_vocalise_rachmaninov/



Music for napping:

The Swan, Saint-Saens
http://www.imeem.com/people/M_zzgR/music/Qb_XeQmx/saint_saens_le_cygne_the_swan/

Lieberstraum No. 3, Liszt
http://www.imeem.com/churant/music/pPJLJscF/franz_liszt_liebestraum/

Claire de Lune, Debussy
http://www.imeem.com/people/d6ZQrOD/music/f7JGXayc/claire_de_lune_piano_van_cliburn/


... and many many more...

[kaffe]

It happened that a very young rabbit was ‘surrendered’ to me by a couple who did not now how to care for him.  It bothered me that the rabbit was kept in a tiny cage and never let out to hop around.  Although I had never had the care of rabbits before, I took this pitiful bunny in and named him very imaginatively, “White Babbit.”  I threw away his hateful cage; transformed the narrow but enclosed alleyway by the side of my house into a bunny run but also allowed him to explore the patio and the inside of the house.  I could tell that Kaffe was baffled by this creature that somewhat resembled his kind yet differed in so many significant ways.  He never attempted to harm the bunny in anyway, contenting himself with simply watching from a prudent distance. The other cats took Kaffe’s lead in their treatment of this new addition and so left the rabbit alone.  But when White Babbit began to show a marked attachment and affection for me and I for him, Kaffe began to furtively spy on the bunny. 

[kaffe]

It is unclear what conclusion Kaffe reached from his spying, but for about a week, he began to adopt some of White Babbit’s habits.  He would sit where the bunny liked to sit and duplicate the rabbit’s pose; he nibbled on rabbit pellets; chewed on lettuce and pieces of pear; slept in the grass-filled rabbit “housie.”  Once, he even assumed a comic stiff, straight-4-legged-bound-and- hop-run when he thought no one was looking.  I burst out laughing when I saw this and oh, how I wish I caught it on video!



My hilarity mortified Kaffe and the following week, he tried several stealth strategies to undermine the bunny’s place in the household. First, he flipped over the bunny’s feed bowl, scattering pellets all over.  Next, he peed on White Babbit’s favored spot behind the stereo, hoping I would think it was the bunny that did it. Finally, he upset a can of paint stored on a table in the bunny run, causing White Babbit to hobble and hop all over the spilt mess. White Babbit had to have an antihistamine shot and the paint-smeared fur shaved off.  I had a heart-to-heart chat with Kaffe and we agreed that White Babbit deserved a safer home.        

[Perseus]

I love Kaffe's choice of music!  And the pictures are all so darling, what a gorgeous kitty.

[Bonkers]

  I so enjoy reading your stories about Kaffe. He led a very interesting life with an exceptional Meowmie. How is Cato doing?

[kaffe]

As I knew it would, the time came to leave Manila for the United States. That was in September 2003.  Kaffe was coming with me of course; leaving him behind was unthinkable!  People thought I was crazy because arrangements for Kaffe’s transport were complicated and expensive



Kaffe had to be vaccinated for almost everything and then pass a test in order to be given a certificate of health by the vet.  We were in and out of the vet clinic for several weeks, as every health concern had to be addressed.  Kaffe hated the rides to the vet, but would be very well behaved once inside and on the exam table.



I also had to get an export permit from the Philippine Department of Agriculture for the privilege of taking a Filipino cat outside the country!  And of course, airline requirements for transporting a cat had to be met, such as crate and health specifications. Complicated, yes; but oh so worth it I thought.

[kaffe]

Good homes had to be found for the other cats and fortunately, there were many willing and able adopters from my church fellowship.  I gave each kitty a tearful final kiss before handing them over to their new mamas, each of whom was given some kitty supplies and detailed instructions on their care.



At last we were ready. On the day of the flight, friends drove us to the airport.  Kaffe was in his new cat carrier and “stoned” on a light sedative for the trans-Pacific flight.



At the check-in desk, the man told me that the “extra-luggage,” being a “live animal,” will cost double the quoted amount. When I protested the man insensitively suggested, “You can always leave the cat behind...” 

Perhaps I was truly suffering from stress, but the “fruits of the Spirit”- you know – love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, gentleness -  well, they dropped from me that instant and I raged at the hapless man. I wanted to scale the counter and throttle him for even suggesting that I leave Kaffe!

[kaffe]

Nevertheless, I paid the required amount but my railing must have made an impression on the airline staff because Kaffe was treated with the utmost care and respect after that.  I was even allowed to keep him with me until just before take-off.



The lead steward personally carried Kaffe to the luggage bay area reserved for “live animals” and assured me that all was well.  But I insisted that she go to the pilot and remind him that there was a “live animal” on board.  In fact, I asked her to do this several times.  Looking back, I think it was with great grace and restraint that the cabin crew desisted from spiking my drink with a sleeping pill.  As for Kaffe, I believe he slept through most of the long flight.



When we arrived in Los Angeles, one of the luggage attendants hand-carried Kaffe’s crate from the plane straight to me.  Anxious to see how he was, I peered in through the grate and inquired, “Kaffe-Kuff?” and was immediately answered with a loud and joyous “Meeeoww!”  Then we were off to meet the relatives.

[kaffe]

Los Angeles:  I had forgotten the frantic pace and thespian atmosphere of the city.  The fact that I brought with me a Filipino cat became somewhat of a cause-celebre among my brother’s kids.  They wanted to examine him immediately, imagining - no doubt – that there would be something immensely different about him from American cats.  Nor were they disappointed for Kaffe’s truncated tail satisfied all their expectations. 

But making an impression was the furthest thing from Kaffe’s mind once let out of his crate.  Cooped up in it for untold hours, he headed straight for the litter box with an urgency that defies description, then calmly scratched away in it when he was done.  “Yeah – awesome!”  said the kids.



The next day I took Kaffe outdoors on a leash to see his reaction to the American air. He was very curious about his new surroundings, but since he was shivering badly, we did not stay out long. Back indoors, he took to hiding inside the closet for hours, emerging only to use the litter box, eat and drink.  He was like this for the whole ten days we were at my brother’s house.  The only time he seemed to perk-up was when I took him for short walks at night, on a leash of course.  One time, we were halfway down the path when he suddenly stopped, stiffened, sniffed the air turned around and bolted back for the font door half dragging me behind.  I let him in and out of curiosity, I went out to see what could have spooked him.  Not a few minutes later, a man walking his great dane turned the corner!  Kaffe knew he didn’t want to come face to face with that!

[kaffe]

Then it was time to head for Tennessee where my daughter and grandsons were presently staying.  This meant another flight plus a two-hour shuttle bus ride from Atlanta airport in Georgia to Chattanooga, Tennessee.  This time, I was allowed to have Kaffe in cabin with me, but in a special size crate that fits under the airplane seat.  It was so small that Kaffe had t lay down in a crouch all through the trip.  The crate’s grill top had a small sliding panel where I could insert my hand and pat Kaffe’s head now and again to assure him that all was well.  Again, I had to give him the mild sedative which allowed him to sleep through the most of the trip. 





Atlanta airport was a nightmare though because of the vast distances between where we get off the plane to where the baggage claim area was and again where we had to board the train to get us out of the airport to where the shuttle busses where parked.  Imagine doing this with a cat and several luggage in tow!  On the shuttle bus, I sat right at the back next to a very sleepy Indian lady.  Kaffe’s cabin crate was between us, covered with my balck shawl.  Sometime during the ride, the Indian lady leaned over and laid her head on the shawl-covered crate, thinkig to use it as a pillow.  She just only laid her head on it when Kaffe let out a loud, “meeeow!” and the poor lady recoiled and screamed in alarm.  I had to assure her that it was only my cat. 



My daughter and grandsons met us at Chattanooga and from there, we drove to their home in Cleveland Tennessee.