Chloe back when young


THE CAT'S GETTING OLD

Chloe was given to me by my daughter when it wandered into her driveway-an orphan casually looking for a home... or a hand out. Having two other cats that didn't want to share, she gave Chloe to me. Chloe is a Siamese Tiger. So wildly elegant a name for a type of mongrel cat. She looks just like a siamese, but with stripes through her markings showing its mixed breeding. Coming to us as a kitten, she ruled the house and almost posed for pictures. Being wild for awhile, and Tom not wanting a cat to be indoors all the time, she was both an indoor and outdoor cat who ruled the neighborhood... and successfully kept other drop off kittens away, I think, as we've had so few throughout the years... and the few drop offs, Chloe made no mistake telling us we would have to take them to the local animal shelter, as Chloe has always been a loner. But not as of late.

Chloe would hunt for a living back then. At times during the summer, or while someone was visiting... just in case they had a dog, she would disappear for weeks on end, once we posted pictures and when no one responded, we thought she was dead. BUT THE CAT CAME BACK. We always expected she wasn't going to last long since the first time we saw her across the street below us... a road where people seldom go as slow as the speed limit. But since we got her in 1995, she has remained healthy and sleek. She was not at all needy. She'd come in to eat, grant us the right to brush her for awhile, then attack the brush. Soon she'd be at the door, and out for perhaps 24 hours. But not anymore.

Now she's getting old. It seems strange that she's so affectionate... to the point of neediness. So unlike her. I always related the word senility to crossness and unfriendliness. That may have applied to her former actions, as I could only pet her for so long, or brush her only a few strokes. I couldn't have her sleep in the bed for fear she'd scratch me if I moved my feet. She just wasn't too nice a cat back then. Now that she's getting senile it's like we have a different cat. I had to look up the word senile to be sure, and found it only meant that one's brain is beginning to deteriorate. I like it referred to that our brain cells are getting down to a more manageable size. And with Chloe, she's becoming the cuddly cat I always wanted to have. Now she's ...well... as friendly as a kitten. But when I just watch what she does, it's like she's trying always to figure out what she wants. Sometimes she goes to the door right after she's come in, she meows like she wasn't sure what she was meowing about... kind of looking around, and if you don't let her out, soon she's thinking it was that she was going to eat... or thinking she's wanting to be brushed. She just doesn't seem to know what she wants. She now sometimes goes out, only to walk around the balcony to the other door and meow to come in.

In the winter she would stay out in the worst of the cold temperatures, and I'd worry so about her survival I'd think "this is it," only to have her come to the door yowling late at night, hungry as a bear, and eat sometimes two cans of Fancy Feast at one sitting, then be off again to her doing whatever a cat does when there's over a foot of snow on the ground. I could never figure out which tracks were the resident fox's and which were hers. Sometimes she'd be up at the Lake. The first time I saw her so far from home-about 1/4 mile-I wondered if she was my cat or one like her. It seems that all Siamese Tigers look alike. I had a double take seeing one lying on the side of the road up in Montrose, as it looked so much like her. "What was she doing over 8 miles from home," were my grieving thoughts, but knew it couldn't possibly be her. I was relieved it wasn't her, and I don't think she goes much further than where I saw her that first time at the lake. She didn't come up to me, but stared at me in a way that I could almost read her mind. It seemed she said, "Don't you dare give me away to the dogs!" As she knows like I do that when she's seen somewhere outside the realm of the home, the dogs aren't sure it's Chloe or something good to attack and eat. They did that to a poor muskrat once, and it was a horrible act I couldn't believe my dogs were up to doing.

Her being so careful has been the way Chloe has survived... by being so observant and careful. I shocked the vet when Chloe was getting a rare check up and booster shots when I said, "I expect someday she'll probably be killed by a coyote!" He gave me a look that one would get if they had said the 'F' word. I didn't explain, but we took to expecting she wouldn't live long with the fast road nearby, with bears, coyotes, and foxes in the neighborhood, let alone big hawks who may have thought her a good meal, though she's always been quite skinny. If we expected it, it wouldn't hurt so much when the inevitable (or so it seemed) would happen. But she's still here 16 years later. And she's getting old and senile, which is no longer a bad word, as she's now more loving and friendly.

Chloe Now: