Seven or eight lives left

Throughout the last nine years with Brad, I've been the owner of several varieties of pets … an iguana, two ferrets, too many fish to count and a wide range of birds.

Throughout those nine years, we both vowed we'd never own a cat.

That all changed in October, when Brad and I went hunting in Wyoming.

Our host had a yellow tiger-striped cat. It was an older cat that craved company. For some reason it broke through my defenses and I got to thinking about all the cats I had as a child.

"I've been thinking," I told Brad on the drive home from Wyoming.

His face paled a little. He doesn't like it when I think.

"With all the mice we have in the house, it would be nice to have a cat to take care of them."

His face went from a pale white to a bright red -- he's not a cat lover.

"If we could get a good mouser, we wouldn't have to set 20 traps around the house and worry about the dogs getting into them," I continued with my argument.

He sat there in silence.

By the time our eight-hour trip was over, he gave me permission to start looking for a cat -- just to shut me up.

Two weeks later I was at the Humane Society looking for a kitten. I found the perfect one in a litter of six-week-old kittens. She came to the door of the cage and stuck her little paw out and meowed. I was hooked.

To my amazement, the dogs accepted her easily. Within a couple of days, she and our Pekingese were best of friends, rolling around on the floor, "fighting" each other like they'd been raised together.

She's become a very important part of our "family" now. She's treated like a princess. Her food dish sits on our couch so the dogs won't eat her food, my "no pets in bed" rule has gone down the drain, and she basically has the run of the house.

She's only seen the outdoors on three separate occasions. The first time, she had about three minutes of freedom before I was able to catch her. The second time she hopped around the patio for about 10 minutes as I hopped around trying to catch a handful of fur.

The third time made her decide she really wants to be a house cat.

I had opened the door to let the dogs out shortly after I awoke one morning. I thought I saw an extra body leave the house, but decided I was just seeing double.

I had an appointment in Cambridge that morning and left the house a 9 a.m. I got home at about 12:30. When I got home I tinkered around in the house for a while before I heard a scratching at the door. I let her in and she immediately jumped into my arms.

The next day, shortly after I got out of bed, I went to the refrigerator to get my morning caffeine. I opened the door, grabbed my soda and shut the door.

After a few minutes I again heard a scratching and a faint meow coming from the kitchen. I called her name several times, but she didn't come. Finally my son went to the kitchen, heard her crying and opened the door of the refrigerator. She came flying to the living room and jumped in my lap seeking warmth and comfort.

She's been showing a lot of curiosity about the dishwasher. I've made sure to check it carefully before each use. While she could probably use a bath, I'm not sure the dishwasher is the way to go.

Now I understand where the old saying comes from. Fortunately, she still has seven or eight lives left, but with her curiosity those could disappear in a hurry.