I miss Matchka

I am not a pet person. In fact, I can think of few things worse than having to feed, brush, treat and, worst of all, clean up after an animal. It is a matter of economics: to me the payoff is not worth the investment.

Growing up, we did have a number of pets. In Elliot Lake, my sister had a cat, Samantha, that was very precious to her. When we moved, Sam couldn't come with us because mom was afraid she might suffocate our about-to-be-born new baby sister. Such a traumatic event.

In Dunnville, we had Lacey (I have no idea how she came to be a part of our family) but I believe she was hit by a car. I remember one of my little sisters reporting to her friend that dad picked the cat off the road with a shovel and threw it in the garbage. I cannot, however, verify the accuracy of this statement.

Luke was the third cat that I remember. He joined the Morris clan in an underhanded way. The entire family was at a church service in the park. Just before it was time to go home, Leona somehow snuck this cat into the van. More amazing is the fact that the cat made it home undetected. (Granted, home was only about 10 blocks from the park but a frightened cat meows a lot.) Once home, to our amazement, Leona convinced mom to feed the cat, thereby leaving it no motivation whatsoever to return to its life as a stray. But my absolute favourite part of this story is the 5-year-old-pastor's-daughter reasoning behind the naming of the cat. To this day I can hear Leona explaining, "I decided to call him Luke so that when he grows up and asks me where his name comes from, I can tell him it's from the Bible and then he can hear about Jesus." Oh, the innocence of childhood.

I believe it was also Luke who received many a tossing. That's right: tossing. That's not a new kind of slang, no sir, that's literal English. The cat would sit outside the door, crying extremely loudly. I don't know if he was hungry or simply annoying, but Alicia could take only so much of it until she would get out of bed, climb all the stairs from her basement bedroom, march to the front door, pick up the cat and fling him as far as she could. But that crazy cat was either really dumb or a glutton for punishment because this little game would continue throughout the night. I wonder if that led to his ultimate demise. I forget how this story ended.

Despite the fact that I am no stranger to cats, I have never really liked them. That is until I met Matchka. We sure didn't hit it off right away. In fact, I still think she is quite ugly, but I love her. Matchka is Ashley's cat. I "visited" Ashley house every night for about a year. Once I moved a fair amount of my stuff in I started saying that I was "squatting" rather than simply "visiting." Anyway, she had an ugly cat that she was crazy about. Being a mild cat hater, I tried my best to avoid Matchka but somehow - and this will always be a mystery to me - she won me over. I think it had something to do with the fact that she would sit on me and keep me warm through the long, cold Fort Erie winters.

Now that the weather is getting cooler again, I'm beginning to miss that little darlin'. Ash, will you give her a big, sloppy kiss for me?