Natural soothing

There's something soothing about watching cats go about their daily business, whatever passes for daily business with a pair of pampered housecats.

I've heard it said that dogs have owners but cats have staff. Our indoor boys, McMurphy and Cheswick, certainly think we are here to cater to their every whim, be it turning on the faucet so Ches can sip fresh water, or providing laser pointer exercise whenever Mac stares at the little box in which said pointer is kept.

We have outdoor cats, too -- Lulu, Hermione, Harry, Weasley, Muggle -- and they earn their keep by reducing the rodent population near the house and in the garden, thus protecting our immediate surroundings from rattlesnakes. In exchange, they have an endless supply of cat food, fresh water, and much loving attention anytime we are outdoors. But we don't know them intimately, as we do the indoor guys, even though we've had all but Lulu since they were 3-4 weeks old.

Cheswick invariably leaps on our bed somewhere between 6 and 6:30 every morning, with a little "mrow." He expects to be petted then, preferably by both of us in turn.

The indoor boys go to Doc for checkups and vaccinations tomorrow. We're concerned that Muggle may have feline leukemia, and since the outdoor cats regularly swap spit over the food dish, they've all been exposed. Unfortunately the indoor cats probably have been, too, if that's what she has. We'll see what Doc says.

We've already lost one cat this summer. Hufflepuff disappeared while we were in Colorado, and we have no idea what happened to her. That's three cats -- four counting the kitten who was with us for only a day and then disappeared off the front porch -- gone from the original outside group of eight.

We've worked not to be so attached to the outside kitties, but each has its own personality. Weasley is a loving cat -- although he showed up late Saturday night with part of his ear torn in a strip and a couple of punctures here and there -- and is the outside lap cat. Harry Potter, the sleek tiger, is our roamer. He spends time at the neighbors, wanders who-knows-where, and sometimes isn't seen for days. Lately he's been at the food dish every night and every morning, but disappears during the day. He also wants to be petted, but he is just a little wild, and we're careful with him. Lulu, momma to Harry, Hermione, and Muggle, and the late Flitwick, is a strange little cat, affectionate in her way, but rarely a lap cat. Hermione and Muggle, the long-haired ones, are my cats: they'll tolerate my brushing them to get burrs out of fur and skin for quite a while before they've had enough, and they will sit on my lap to be loved on, but neither of them is very sociable with the others.

Petting a cat is therapeutic, usually evoking deep, endless purring that rumbles beneath the hand, and for that moment, that's all that matters to either of us. I love my kitties.