Rosco and Kane turned two-years-old last month. They are sitting on either side of me as I think about what to write for my fortnightly column for Hibiscus Matters. Their piercing gaze has formed a forcefield around my brain which blocks any idea that tries to enter it. It seems that they are ordering me to write about them as they control my brain with their magical powers. So here we go.
Rosco and Kane are my cats. They are not just my cats, they are my best friends. I did not feel that way when my wife suggested that we needed to get a cat. I mounted a fierce opposition to the idea. We are not cat people; we are independent millennials; we go to parties, sip on craft beer and converse about the latest Paris fashion trends. As I was babbling my opposition to the idea of a pet, I started to realise; who am I kidding? I am none of these things. I am a nerd academic. I read non-fiction and journal articles. I watch copious amounts of political TV and movies. I don’t go to parties – in fact, I rejoice when parties are cancelled. There is no better feeling than when there is a Facebook event cancellation notification on my phone. I am an introvert, which is also very cool, but not in a cliched way. It was time to get a kitten.
Gutter Kitties run a tremendous local rescue operation for cats. They rescue, foster, litter train, desex, and give medical care to cats until they find a loving home. You cannot just go and pick up a kitten on a whim from Gutter Kitties. We had to go through an interview process with the foster parent and when she felt that it was a good match, we were able to adopt Rosco and Kane. I sincerely think that Gutter Kitties deserve our financial generosity this Christmas, so please, google them and contribute if you can.
Why did we get two kittens? I couldn’t bear the thought of bringing in a singular non-human species in my house. I thought it would be lonely coming out of a litter of several kittens and living in a house with alien humans who have no idea of what it might be thinking or feeling. I felt that there was camaraderie needed so they have each other when the humans are being stupid and selfish. So, we adopted bonded brothers who couldn’t be separated. I named them Rosco and Kane after the cricketing legends, Ross Taylor, and Kane Williamson.
I cannot imagine my life without them. Rosco knows when I am stressed or sick and he always flops on the side of my body and purrs furiously to take all that stress away. Kane is attached to my wife and hangs around her like a secret service agent. They love each other, engaging in playful zoomies and thorough cleaning sessions. They care for us and demand our love. They are indoor cats because I don’t want them to be roadkill and I don’t want them killing any of the native birds that hang around in our gardens. They are family.
They are still staring at me while I finish this. Alright, time for a cuddle.