Myths About Cats and My Mother's Yahrzeit

People write such nonsense about cats. It’s a frequently repeated cliché that cats are loners. But have these authors never heard of feral cat colonies? Stray and feral cats unless they are hyper-aggressive males don’t live solitary lives. They join colonies of other cats. Often the colonies are quite large. Females almost never remain alone. After they mature, females tend to stay with their mother. Often groups of related females share the nursing and the raising of kittens together. I have seen that in catteries as well as in the wild. Males may hang around or may go in search of another colony, but cas are far more social than ignorant writers believe. I have always had multiple cats; now, only four. They form strong attachments to each other as well as to us. When a cat dies, the cats that are close to that individual go through a mourning period that can last quite a while. Mingus did not stop mourning Sugar Ray and being visibly depressed, not eating much, not playing until we got Schwartzie three months later. After he bonded with Schwartzie, his playfulness, his appetite and his contentment returned. I have seen this mourning time and again. it has also become common to blame cats for the decrease in bird populations, rather than admitting that most of it is caused by loss of habitat both on their migration routes and ultimate destinations, logging, suburban sprawl and the erection of tall buildings, windmills and light pollution on their migration paths. The biggest problem is the destruction of habitat, not cats catching birds. Before the spread of coywolves onto the Outer Cape, our cats had happy indoor/outdoor lives. They were all taught not to catch birds. The only sticking point was quail, since they run on the ground rather than flying. Now that the cats must live strictly indoors, we have a rodent problem in our gardens – mice, voles, chipmunks, rabbits, woodchucks. Foxes catch them but unfortunately, the coywolves also eat foxes. They prefer bigger game than mice. Our cats are very affectionate. They follow us about, try to take part in anything we do. Xena likes to sit and stare into my eyes with the most loving look. Willow will purr whenever I touch her. All the cats sleep with us and are patient with our restiveness, our getting us to pee, changing position. They greet each other by touching noses. Tonight is my mother’s yahrzeit, the day to say Kaddish for her on the anniversary of her death according to the lunar Hebrew calendar. It’s also the first night of Hanukkah, both always coming together. Hanukkah is very late this year. Tonight we’re invited out to a traditional Italian seven fishes dinner, although it was be nine fishes instead. I’ll light the candles at sunset so they should have burned down completely before we leave. The stubby yahrzeit candle I’ll let burn all night and all day tomorrow in the bathtub, where, if the cats should knock it over, it can’t set fire to the house. I remember worrying about my grandmother Hannah lighting numerous yahrzeit candles on Yom HaShoah and worrying she would burn her tenement down. She would light as many as she could for her family and friends murdered by the Nazis and thrown in a mass grave. I will also think about the resurgent Nazis here who are followers emboldened by Trump and his coterie of haters.