Grace (Ralph) the Cat

It is inevitable when you own a cat. Accepting this part of my fur friend is like accepting the fact that she sheds or that she eats smelly cat food. People who do not own cats don’t understand. You get questions like “Is it a hairball?” or “Is she sick?” Cats eat. Cats drink. They poop in litter boxes and sometimes the neighbor’s garden. Cats groom themselves and rarely need a real water bath. Cats scratch things even if you have their nails removed. And cats throw up. A lot. And for no reason.

I have a sweet cat, Grace, that I have had for nearly 10 years. She has been my sidekick through raising my family and she is a dear companion. She doesn’t really like the kids, even now in their teenage years. She avoids them like she does dogs, quickly scooting around them hoping they don’t notice her entrance into the room. She sneaks around like a burglar, creeping along the baseboards, making a quick dash to the food dish, all the while avoiding their gaze. She lets out a scream when they pet her, alerting me to the fact that they dared to touch her. They never were mean to her, she just never liked them. She is a one-person gal, and that person is me.

Grace sleeps all day on my bed. She rarely leaves her spot unless The Evil Vacuum Cleaner makes its appearance, and then she goes under the bed. She waits for me until it is “our “time-- our quiet time when I pet her. She won’t tolerate being held (too confining) but she will sit close with the motor running on extra loud. She likes her back scratched and her head kissed. She doesn’t want her feet touched or her tummy rubbed. She likes to wrestle with me while I make the bed. She is the only cat I know that likes to sleep in on the weekend. She’ll go outside only if I go with her. She is a sweet kitty who all but ignores the rest of the family because she is devoted only to me.

As much as I love her, I do hate her stomach. Grace has an extra sensitive tummy and vomits nearly on command. She isn’t a long haired cat, so it isn’t a hairball issue. She isn’t allergic to her food. She just throws up a lot. She’s at it after going in the yard. She has a field day when we are on vacation. She seems to favor middle of the night and near the bed. She is at it when she eats too much. Or drinks too much. She hacks when it is hot or when it is cold. She recently threw up over the excitement of a snow day-- I found it only when I tried to crawl back into bed for a couple hours of sleep. She sat there looking at me like she usually does—“So, what’s the problem?” She doesn’t get it.

There is nothing as disconcerting as the sound of the cat hacking in the middle of the night. I try to ignore the sound, but I have to admit I am intrigued as to where the obvious has occurred. And does it need to be handled at 2:00 a.m.? Was it on the rug? Is it in the hall where someone will step into it? My mind and imagination are racing and I end up getting up. Why is it that nobody else hears this or is concerned by it? Why is it that my whole house has hard wood floors but that cat goes literally 3 inches onto the one rug we own and aims there? Why does she back up like a dump truck when she’s at it? The worst is when I hear the unspoken in my bedroom and I have to search for my special reward. Is it under the bed? Is it right where I step down? Is it on the husband’s side and can I get away with feigned surprise in the morning? NASA has never experienced a launching neither as high nor as fast as Grace hacking in the middle of the night on the bed. We’re talking complete sacrifice of the animal for the dry clean only comforter cover. I do have my limits.

Now I have to admit my patience has been tested more than once with my friend’s quirkiness, but for the most part I have accepted this part of her. I also dealt with it when my son was an infant and he, too, had a penchant for heaving. She accepts me for my quirks. She doesn’t get mad when I push her away. She understands when I’ve run out of her special weekend kitty food. I’ve learned it is just who she is and to be grateful that the other cat doesn’t share the same soft belly.