Miss Kitty tames her feller

Miss Kitty's feller is turning out to be quite a charmer.

It could be that our calico cat with the bald patch on her face is changing the huge tom cat into a nobler example of feline appearance.

Old Tom, who appeared just a few months ago to have onlyone eye and whose fur was matted with mud and other debris, has become quite a looker, now that spring is in full-bore.

As much as we'd like to attribute Tom's improvement to the example and guidance of Miss Kitty, it more likely has to do with a steady diet of expensive cat food, the kind "recommended by veterinarians," which is full of vitamins and minerals and a bunch of other stuff I'd rather not know about.

Tom, you see, has been helping himself to Miss Kitty's buffet inside the garage, which is accessible only by a cat door. He quickly mastered the cat door and seems to have won over the resident ruling cat. Miss Kitty is known for her territorial fierceness. But when it's Old Tom, she doesn't blink an eye.

When it turned cold last winter, my allergic-to-cats but softhearted wife decided Miss Kitty could come in each evening and sit in my lap until we went to bed. Miss Kitty has made the most of the deal. She minds her manners. She knows where she can and cannot go in the house. She knows which pieces of furniture are "No!" and which are "Good kitty!"

Old Tom, who still won't let anyone at our house get close enough to pet him, does not get invited inside, nor has he shown any particular interest in sitting on a lap.

But now when he comes for his evening snack inside the garage, he comes back out onto the patio and does that bone-chilling wailing that only tom cats can make when spring is in the air.

Miss Kitty acts like she doesn't hear the noise.

Spring also means Miss Kitty resumes her hunting in earnest. She brings us gifts, some of them still alive, and gets that one-ear-laid-back perplexed look when we don't seem entirely thrilled.

My wife's worst encounter so far has been the rabbit halves, which Miss Kitty thoughtfully deposits next to her car door in the garage, a spot where my wife will be sure to see how generous a calico cat can be.

One day it was the front half. The next it was the back half.

"What am I going to do?" my wife asked. "It's so disgusting."

Choose, I said.

Miss Kitty is clearly trying to determine your personal preference for rabbit halves, and you're not helping by shrieking every time you go to the car.

For some reason, Miss Kitty has already decided that I'm a fan of mice. She brings a live mouse to the patio door most mornings and holds it in her mouth until I come out the door. Then she brings it over an drops it at my feet while the mouse tries to kick its way into a running position.

I don't know which Miss Kitty finds more amusing: me doing a three-step dance away from the mouse, or the mouse flailing its legs in the air.

It's hard to tell much when a cat's only physical exertion is flipping its tail.

Miss Kitty also has become quite a people cat in recent weeks, what with all the workers coming and going as our bathroom renovations continue.

(Yes, we are at the end of the sixth week of our two-week project. Insert hysterical laughter here.)

This is the cat who used to jump a foot and run for cover when she heard a leaf fall. We still tease her about the Leaf Monster.

Now Miss Kitty lolls on the wicker divan on the patio and expects -- demands -- that whoever is passing say hello and give her a pat.

Well, a girl needs a bit of attention after hunting and gathering and turning a tough old tom cat into a slick dude.

All in a day's ... activity ... for Miss Kitty.

She's too smart to work.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.