It’s almost time to say goodbye to the drowned annuals that desperately tried to recover from the early summer monsoons and failed miserably (it had nothing to do with the fact the pots had no holes in the bottom and their pretend custodian had better things to do, like hold down a lounge chair), and time to say goodbye to the cat graveyard that now is home to the remains of my final final cat. For now. Oh. That kind of sounds like I’m expecting the remains to go somewhere else. What I mean is there will be no replacement feline. Until there is.
Anyhow, that got me thinking about what I miss most about no longer having a cat. You probably thought I would mention the joy of a purring bundle in your lap or the entertainment value of a new catnip mouse being flung in the air or the satisfaction derived from sucking up a vacuum cleaner’s worth of cat hair. I will speak of none of these things. Here’s what I miss the most:
- Tuna water. When you buy tuna packed in water, tuna water is a byproduct. When you have a cat and buy tuna packed in water, a cat treat is a byproduct. Even though my cat food cans had zip tops, somehow the cats recognized the sound of a manual can opener (possible a vestigial memory) and bounded into the kitchen whenever they heard one, hoping a can of tuna was involved. If so, the tuna water was drained into a cat dish and everyone was happy. Now, I’m forced to drain the water into the sink, which probably contravenes some rule about good septic bed management.
- Bread bags. Despite the edict to reduce single-use plastics, bread still comes in plastic bags. My contribution to solving the single-use problem was to make them multiuse. I kept them in a kitchen drawer and if I needed to thaw a bagel for breakfast or a hotdog bun for lunch, I’d stick it in a bread bag and leave it on the counter. But they were even more useful as repositories for scooped kitty litter: strong enough to securely retain both the contents and their odious aromas. I still keep a bag or two around for bread-management purposes, but the majority go into the garbage (along with ample guilt).
- Mice. Or more correctly, a lack of mice. Apparently, the mere presence of a cat in the vicinity will deter mice from trying to get in. I have definitely seen many more small rodent-like creatures hanging around outside. Which is fine, as long as they mind their own business. But recently, at the house in the city, I opened the dishwasher and found a rather wet mouse clinging to the door. Needless to say, previously it would have been dispatched with great efficiency. Now, not so much.
Of course there are also things I don’t miss, like enhancing Dollarama’s profits courtesy of the money spent on lint-roller rolls, and the without-fail 4:30 wake-up call, and the billions of dollars spent on cat food and litter, and my contributions to the vet’s daughter’s destination wedding and new waiting-room chairs. So that is what I think about when cute cat memes infest my internet real estate. I hope it continues to work…