Bad to the Bone:. Bo Hoefinger
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another swat across the face.
“No jump! Down! Leave it!”
My mother was trying every command in the book. Hadn’t she realized I’d chosen not to learn any of them yet?
All this commotion was too much for the feline. She extended her claws, scratched my mother’s arm, and jumped to freedom.
My mother screamed, the cat hit the ground running, and not to be outdone, I gave chase.
After a frenzied tour of the house, my new sister chose the living room couch to hide under. Trying not to provoke the situation anymore, I took a disciplined approach to getting close. I put my nose to the floor (a sign of friendship) and inched up to the sofa, my nose getting closer with each scoot, until my head was finally under it. There she sat, staring back at me.
I gave her the “I’m here in peace and mean you no harm” look, followed by an almost imperceptible whine. It sounded pathetic, just as it was intended.
Before Moose could respond in kind, I was yanked backward and escorted to the upstairs bedroom by my mother. In the end, I gave in, but I didn’t make it easy on her.
With my ear to the bedroom floor, I heard my mother coax the cat out from under the couch. Moments later, I was released.
I ran out of the bedroom, scoured the upstairs, searched the main floor, and looked in every nook and cranny in between. It wasn’t until I heard a distant “Meow” that I realized the cat was in the basement, and out of my reach.
My mother wasn’t taking any chances. The cat had already “attacked her” once, she probably thought the next assault would turn deadly. I’m sure her concern for me never entered the picture.
I had to wait until my father came home to get up close and personal with my sister.
In the meantime, my mother sat me down and told me of my new sibling’s adoption.
“We met, your aunt Marcy and I, at the shelter. Even though I was a bit scared I was eager to get inside to look at the kittens.
“Don’t let my eagerness fool you Bo; I didn’t really want to have to pick one up because, really, what’s to stop it from viciously attacking me? Certainly not your aunt, but I did want to see what the shelter had to offer.
“When I saw the cages, I thought it was best to have aunt Marcy take the cats out one by one, hold them, and if a battle to the death didn’t ensue, make them a candidate on our adoption list.
“The very first feline Marcy picked up was this gray, tiger striped kitten about nine months old. She was average and there was really nothing to distinguish her from the rest of the cats, but she did pass the ‘attack’ portion of the interview. I told Marcy to put her back and to move on to the next one.
“Well, let me tell you, Bo, this cat did not like being passed over. Before letting us take two steps, she stuck her paw underneath the cage and started frantically pumping it in and out. If I didn’t know better I would have thought she was giving your aunt and me the middle finger!
“I certainly couldn’t ignore that, could I? So, I turned around and went back to take a closer look. She stared at me with unwavering eyes. I could tell she was strong willed and had quite an attitude.”
Hmm…sounds like a dog I know.
“Well Bo, I made my decision right then and there. This cat was the one for us!”
Of course my mother never stopped to consider my needs. I would have preferred a weak-willed, gutless companion. Someone to do my bidding for me, if you will. But hey, having an additional personality around was still an improvement over the current situation.
My mother continued her story. “Remember how we had to wait to pick you up? Well, with kittens, you get to take them right away. I wasn’t prepared for that, so I had to ask the shelter for a box to carry your new sister home in. We punched some holes in it, put the cat in, and closed the lid.”
Wow, how undignified.
I also knew the humiliation didn’t end there. You see, the vehicle my new sister was going to be taken home in was also a bit degrading. It was an orange 1981 Ford Mustang. This particular car wasn’t one of those cool Mustangs you see in magazines but one of the worst cars ever built. It must have been built on a Friday, before a long weekend. Besides being an eyesore, this vehicle rattled like crazy, lacked power windows, and most importantly on this day, was without a working air conditioner.
Did I mention that it was orange?
“So I took the box, put it in the car, and bid Aunt Marcy good-bye. I was so excited to get the cat home to show her to you.
“It wasn’t long into the trip when I heard this thumping noise from the back of the car. At first I thought it was a flat tire, but quickly realized it wasn’t. I turned my head to look in the backseat, when, much to my horror, the top of the box popped open like a jack-in-the-box!
“But Bo, instead of a scary clown springing up, an angry cat jumped out!”
Man, I wish she would have invited me along for the ride. I’d have given up a week’s worth of my unprovoked barking to see the look on her face when Freddy Krueger sprang to life.
She continued. “Well the windows were open because it was so hot…I really wish your father would get that a/c fixed…and the cat looked to jump through one of them.
“What could I do? I couldn’t let her leap out of a moving vehicle and onto a major highway. I had no choice but to lunge for her. I was scared, but I caught her by the tail and reeled her in, all while negotiating traffic.
Wow, it’s true what they say. Women do multitask very well.
“I gotta tell you, Bo, after I managed to pull the car over and get the windows closed, I didn’t feel so afraid of her anymore. One thing is for sure your new sister doesn’t like car rides like you do.
“You know how you like to sit in the passenger seat and look all cute? Well she likes to sit on my head, massage my hair, and meow at the top of her lungs. I bet it looks cute, but I really can’t tell. And it’s not the safest way to drive a car.”
If anybody could pull off the kitty turban look, it was my mother.
“Well, after a forty-five-minute ride…here we are.”
Just another average drama-filled day in the life of my mother. But she still hadn’t answered my most burning question. I wagged my tail and gave her my best adorable look, but to no avail.
“Oh no, Bo, I’m not going to let the cat out of the cellar until your father comes home.”
Seemed to me she was still scared.
She called Aunt Marcy to relay the news of her adventurous ride home. As I listened in, I picked up on a nugget of new information…
“Yes. We’re going to call her Moose,” said my mother.
Moose? Thank goodness I came pre-named into this family.
“Why Moose you ask? Because I wouldn’t let my honey name her Cow.”
Cats have nine lives, and with this family, Moose would need them all.
CHAPTER 5
Raising Arizona
My father arrived home several hours after my mother had locked up Moose in the basement. Upon learning of the cat’s location, he quickly retrieved her and brought her into the living room.
With my father, the encounter with Moose was a bit more controlled and pleasant. He held Moose and allowed me to sniff her up and down. I let Moose sniff me as well. She wasn’t what I had pictured in a cat. She was actually quite sociable and playful. I suppose you can’t judge a book by its cover, even if it is covered in cat hair.
We slept in the same bedroom that first night, and for many thereafter. There wasn’t