For a refresher on Bear's adoption story (which explains how Momma and Bear found each other and the reference below to Momma thinking Bear was a girl): The good news is your cat is not pregnant . . . the bad news is . . .
In honor of Bella's reappearance (as explained on Momma Kat's Facebook page yesterday): Momma and Bear imagine if Bear could be a father. Who's Bella? A tiny black cat that's visited Bear for at least five years. At first, Momma thought she was a kitten because she's so tiny, but she hasn't grown in the intervening years. She regularly comes and goes, this time being gone for about six months. Unfortunately, all attempts to introduce Bear and Bella face-to-face have failed miserably with Bear freaking out . . . so their relationship continues through the window. Relationship through a window? Yes, they sit and stare at each other with googly eyes (sometimes for hours) until Bella has to go: at which point, Bear mournfully caterwauls with everything he has and runs between all the windows in the house to maintain the best view of her walking away. But oh, was he happy to see her yesterday! (he made a combination chirp/caterwaul Momma's never heard before causing her to jump up and run because he sounded like he was dying)
The Great Bear Tomcat: Chillaxin' with his masculinity
MK: Momma Kat
BC: How are kittens made?
MK: Why?
BC: I don't want to wake up with a bunch of little Bears crowding me out and using my facilities.
MK: Aww . . . little Bears! They'd be soooo cute! You were such a cute kitten!
BC: Sharing is not cute. So how do I make sure there aren't Bears everywhere?
MK: Kittens require a boy cat and a girl cat.
BC: You mean like when Bella and I give each other googly eyes?
MK: No, not really.
BC: Then how do kittens get made? Because we've shared some INTENSE googly eyes . . . We're lucky we didn't melt the window between us. It was HOT!
MK: Ummm . . .
MK: {Weighing the awkwardness of explaining cat sex to a cat that makes the simplest explanations difficult versus ending the discussion} Kind of. Sure.
BC: You mean I might be a kitty daddy?
MK: {mumbling} Oh, crap.
BC: I must find my babies!
MK: You're scared of other cats.
BC: What's that . . . Oh. The kittens would be cats, wouldn't they?
MK: Yes.
BC: Can I send kitten support? Maybe my kibble?
MK: No.
BC: You want me to be a deadbeat dad?
MK: How about you send a card?
BC: You think that's enough? I mean, Bella having to raise the kittens by herself and all . . . I could help her . . . all those kittens climbing all over the place and getting into my stuff . . . yeah, a card is good.
MK: Okay.
BC: {puffing out his chest with pride} I'm a daddy! I bet my kittens are all black! Because black kittens are the coolest - and what else would my kittens be? From now on, call me B. Daddy! I've reproduced! I'm a MAN. I'm a TOMCAT. I've ARRIVED.
{Bear struts around . . . looking very much like a male peacock . . . or a streetwalker . . .}
MK: No.
BC: From now on, I will walk with pride knowing I've reproduced. I spread my . . . something. I am a man . . . kitty. I'm a TOMCAT. I ooze masculinity and wildness.
MK: {to herself} Why? Why? Why? You'd think the father thing would be easier to manage than having to explain the birds and bees . . . Oh, for crying out loud!
BC: What?
MK: I don't think you're the father, Bear.
BC: That's B. Daddy! And who else do you think Bella would make kittens with? Are you saying she gets around {gasp} with other cats?
MK: I don't think you're A father. We don't even know if Bella was pregnant!
BC: What?!?!? Hey! For your information, I am more than MAN enough to father kittens. Even though I'm not sure how. And even through a window. My masculinity flows out of me like waves!
MK: Ummm . . . well, actually . . .
BC: What?
MK: See, you had surgery . . .
BC: Oh, what? So you were disappointed I wasn't a girl kitty so you decided to "fix" the problem?
MK: No! Well, I guess you could call it being "fixed," but not like that. I didn't make you a girl kitty . . . if I had done that then I could have kept your name Lily.
BC: So I'm a boy?
MK: Yes. Well. Technically I believe the answer is, "neutered," but you have the rest of your boy parts.
BC: How do you know? Have you been checking out my boy parts?
MK: No. I just kind of go on faith that they're there.
BC: Oh, so now you're insulting my manhood because it's so small you can't see it?
MK: Oh, Bear.
BC: Yeah. I guess I'm only, "Bear," since you took away my ability to be B. Daddy.
MK: I have a headache.
BC: Oh, yeah? What did I go through?
{Pause}
BC: So what exactly ARE my boy parts? And how are kittens made?
MK: We can't leave it at requiring a boy kitty and a girl kitty?
BC: Well, I guess it doesn't matter anymore anyway since you took away my ability to do it.
MK: You said you didn't want little Bears?!?!?
BC: Well, that was before I knew I can't HAVE little Bears. The world would be a much better place with lots of Bears running around . . . as long as we didn't have to share with each other . . . because Bear doesn't share.
{Later the same day}
BC: I hate my life!
MK: Oh, really?
BC: I want to go outside! I've spent the last two hours meowing by the front door. Hello?!?! Outside?!?!?
MK: I let you out earlier and you came right back in.
BC: My paws got wet!
MK: I can't do anything about the rain.
BC: Liar! I know you make it wet just to keep me inside . . . you want my life limited to this small house!!!
MK: Bear, I've tried to let you get close to other cats outside and you just freak out. I can't do anything about that either.
BC: What boy cat wants to be brought outside, to hot kitty chicks, by his MOMMY?!?!
MK: That one time, I wasn't even around. I was getting the mail, you were outside and Bella came around the corner and you FREAKED OUT. You banged on the front door and howled until I came running to let you in.
BC: I don't remember that.
MK: I'm sure you don't.
BC: But my life still sucks. My litter box is not appropriately maintained.
MK: WHAT? I scoop it AT LEAST 3 times a day!
BC: Quite often I have to step around my previous business.
MK: Maybe that wouldn't happen if you didn't go right in the litter box as soon as I'm done scooping.
BC: I wait for it to be clean!
MK: No. You just can't stand it not being marked.
BC: You don't know everything!
MK: Do you have to go right now?
BC: What does that have to do with anything?
MK: Do you?
BC: NO! Why are you obsessed with my litter box habits? When we started this blog you promised no posts about litter box related subjects!
{Momma scoops the litter box}
{PAUSE}
{Without thinking, Bear jumps in the litter box to do his business}
{PAUSE}
BC: RATS! This is why my life sucks! You trick me!
MK: No, your life "sucks" because you walk around like a martyr with all this soap opera drama and Momma doesn't feel sorry for you. Or not too sorry for you. Much.
BC: And I have to eat kibble! Life is so unfair!
MK: Life was unfair when you were a homeless kitty with no mommy, no shelter, and the inability to hunt.
BC: And then you plucked me out of my tomcat life and brought me inside! I was a TOM! I had oats to sow!
MK: You only left the safety of under the deck for food and my loves. I can't imagine how many oats you sowed under the deck.
BC: It was my den of iniquity. You didn't see my harem come and go?
MK: Then I guess you know how kittens are made.
BC: I forgot. It doesn't mean I didn't do the deed in my day!
MK: If you had a harem, I'm a monkey's uncle. You didn't let the other cats anywhere near you!
BC: No, I hid because I didn't want to be seen with you! I had my street cred to uphold! And many female cats left to bed . . . and then you took me inside . . . and BOOM! No more chicks.
MK: But you had food, a warm place to sleep, and unlimited loves from a Momma that loves you.
BC: Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. You're stingy with the treats. Expect me to eat kibble. And won't let me outside to flaunt my "Tom!" I think I'm losing my edge.
MK: Never. Our conversations and your behavior still drive the market for pain relievers. I love you, Bear. You'll always be my tomcat.
BC: I love you too, Momma. You give good ear rubs. And backscratches. And the cuddling isn't bad. I GUESS I'll stay . . . as long as you recognize how lucky you are to be allowed in my life. Oh, and you have to call me T. Cat from now on - to recognize my tom-ness and my cat-ness!
{Later the same day}
BC: I hate my life!
MK: Oh, really?
BC: I want to go outside! I've spent the last two hours meowing by the front door. Hello?!?! Outside?!?!?
MK: I let you out earlier and you came right back in.
BC: My paws got wet!
MK: I can't do anything about the rain.
BC: Liar! I know you make it wet just to keep me inside . . . you want my life limited to this small house!!!
MK: Bear, I've tried to let you get close to other cats outside and you just freak out. I can't do anything about that either.
BC: What boy cat wants to be brought outside, to hot kitty chicks, by his MOMMY?!?!
MK: That one time, I wasn't even around. I was getting the mail, you were outside and Bella came around the corner and you FREAKED OUT. You banged on the front door and howled until I came running to let you in.
BC: I don't remember that.
MK: I'm sure you don't.
BC: But my life still sucks. My litter box is not appropriately maintained.
MK: WHAT? I scoop it AT LEAST 3 times a day!
BC: Quite often I have to step around my previous business.
MK: Maybe that wouldn't happen if you didn't go right in the litter box as soon as I'm done scooping.
BC: I wait for it to be clean!
MK: No. You just can't stand it not being marked.
BC: You don't know everything!
MK: Do you have to go right now?
BC: What does that have to do with anything?
MK: Do you?
BC: NO! Why are you obsessed with my litter box habits? When we started this blog you promised no posts about litter box related subjects!
{Momma scoops the litter box}
{PAUSE}
{Without thinking, Bear jumps in the litter box to do his business}
{PAUSE}
BC: RATS! This is why my life sucks! You trick me!
MK: No, your life "sucks" because you walk around like a martyr with all this soap opera drama and Momma doesn't feel sorry for you. Or not too sorry for you. Much.
BC: And I have to eat kibble! Life is so unfair!
MK: Life was unfair when you were a homeless kitty with no mommy, no shelter, and the inability to hunt.
BC: And then you plucked me out of my tomcat life and brought me inside! I was a TOM! I had oats to sow!
MK: You only left the safety of under the deck for food and my loves. I can't imagine how many oats you sowed under the deck.
BC: It was my den of iniquity. You didn't see my harem come and go?
MK: Then I guess you know how kittens are made.
BC: I forgot. It doesn't mean I didn't do the deed in my day!
MK: If you had a harem, I'm a monkey's uncle. You didn't let the other cats anywhere near you!
BC: No, I hid because I didn't want to be seen with you! I had my street cred to uphold! And many female cats left to bed . . . and then you took me inside . . . and BOOM! No more chicks.
MK: But you had food, a warm place to sleep, and unlimited loves from a Momma that loves you.
BC: Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. You're stingy with the treats. Expect me to eat kibble. And won't let me outside to flaunt my "Tom!" I think I'm losing my edge.
MK: Never. Our conversations and your behavior still drive the market for pain relievers. I love you, Bear. You'll always be my tomcat.
BC: I love you too, Momma. You give good ear rubs. And backscratches. And the cuddling isn't bad. I GUESS I'll stay . . . as long as you recognize how lucky you are to be allowed in my life. Oh, and you have to call me T. Cat from now on - to recognize my tom-ness and my cat-ness!
No comments
If you have trouble posting a comment, please let us know by e-mail: cats@mommakatandherbearcat.com. THANK YOU FOR STOPPING BY!