mosey on over
my cat who likes to watch tv and eat potato chips
mosey, as in “mosey on over,” or short for “moses,” is my mom’s little green-eyed black cat. he likes to eat potato chips and watch tv. i discovered this once while watching movies in the basement and left my plate unattended for a second - mosey leaped across the couch and snatched a tortilla chip, and trotted away with it in his mouth, holding onto just the top corner. when he first came home, he was a skinny little bugger, and so food insecure that he’d wait outside the master bath door (where my mom feeds her cats on a silver tray) all day for dinner. mosey is from the desert, and he has desert-dwelling tendencies. like, he’s afraid of going outside during the day, because his early memories are of a blazing hot sun. and he’s afraid of heights somewhat. he slinks around on the ground like he’s looking for lizards.
when my mom rescued moses, she was actually returning home from a rescue mission for *me,* which is a Story, i’ll tell ya… why I left LA the way I did. that’s not the point. their van was full of all my worldly possessions, my vintage yellow dresser with wood carvings of sunflowers on the drawers, my painting easel, my bone china teacups, all rattling around as my dad drove up and over the mountains back to the midwest. they had stopped to rest at a bnb in Utah when my mom noticed a cat crying like a little baby. when she tells the story, she describes asking the receptionist “whose cat is this?’ and him handing her moses with one hand through the car window, forcefully, yelling, “here! TAKE ‘IM!”
i was staying in LA for a couple days after they had left because i still had loose ends, like car repairs, that needed attention before i headed for the long-haul home with my car, separately, packed with everything else.
i became aware of moses when my mom texted me: “we picked up a hitcher!” Because of my parents’ (generous, risk-taking) nature, the joke wasn’t immediately obvious to me, and i texted them back “NOOOOOO!” then they sent me a picture of the cat.
the original plan was to bring him to a no-kill shelter perhaps somewhere in Montana. whatever was going to happen, my mom couldn’t have left him there out in the elements. mosey, shy, hungry, probably feeling as if he had just been kidnapped, hid in all my belongings in the back at first, but by the time my folks got to the Dakotas he was sitting on their laps and purring. by that time it was soooo over. obviously he was coming home. and now that he’s been around for a few months, it was clear that was destiny from the get-go.
i was in the garden with my mom today pulling up tulip bulbs, and she kept chuckling to herself: “i’ve become a crazy cat lady…” and it’s kind of true, but also a testament to her sweetness. when i was in college still, my little brother rescued a 2 week old kitten from a storm drain. the cat got pregnant when she was shy of a year old, with a roaming country tom, before we could get her fixed. she had a litter of 8. it was hard for my mom to home the kittens, to say goodbye, to, in her words, “break up the family,” and she ended up keeping three of the siblings. dmitry, the mom, and her babies, bagheera, muscle man, and pierogi. it’s funny to me that they’re four tuxedo cats, because they’ve taken ownership of the neighborhood, running about where they please like a little gang in formal wear.
when my parents first moved into their place, a neighbor was going to complain about all the cats, but then, they confessed to my mother: “we used to have problems with mice, and since you’ve moved in, this is the first year we don’t.” i know there are some problems with letting your cats outside, and bird populations,, but,, i’ll just say it… the cat mafia is taking out all the rats…
my mom didn’t really expect to be a cat lady. but when the house is quiet, with her four kids all grown up, she says it’s nice to have some little creatures running around causing mischief. which makes me really love my mom. and too bad for her, because i ended up moving back in temporarily, and i’m much more rambunctious than the cats.
another thing about moses is that he’s used to walking on sand. despite being a slender cat, his footsteps are booming and loud, and when he’s really zooming around on our hard floors it’s like thunder. i don’t know how else to describe it. it’s like he’s stomping around in doc martens like a goth girl. but super fast, times four, because he’s a cat. moses is either running around, hiding from Pierogi (who has now lost the title of being the most Baby of the kitties, unfortunately, and now seeks vengeance), or watching tv. he loves watching tv.
a few months ago my friend did a tarot card reading for me over the phone, and pulled the queen of wands. she said, “this must be you, and look, there’s moses.” the little black cat at the feet of a queen seated on a throne.
anyways, moses is really silly. and he’s a symbol of my parents’ love, meowing for dinner and running around our house with his big-footsteps-for-no-reason. and i think all of us at times need to be rescued. and all of us at times need to be the rescuer - because often the person or creature who needs our help isn’t a burden, but a light in our life. and it’s good to experience both ends so you understand that when you are being helped, you are loved.
and don’t be afraid.
so i wanted to draw mosey. here are some of those drawings.
apologies this is a pretty loosely written blog and maybe not my usual style. i hope you don’t judge me for living with so many cats, or with my mom.
