Feline Beeline……………..tales of the cat underground railroad

By Tiber

Everybody here loves animals but nobody more than my sister, Iris Nell. And it’s because of Iris Nell that we are a part of the cat underground railroad and cats in need of shelter simply show up.

My parents had had our cat, Pogonip, for ten years when Iris Nell was born but it was clear soon after, that she was her cat.

So not long after Pogonip died, Mumbles just appeared. (Mumbles got his name because he had a soft but very insistent voice. You were always bending down, trying to catch what he was saying, as if he had breaking news. He rarely did.)

In any event, soon after Mumbles went on to his kitty reward, Edward the cat appeared. Edward lived to be 18 and was loved by all, an undeniably good soul, even-keeled and tolerant, a far better man than I.

And a little less than a year ago, when Edward passed away, we all, needless to say, were very sorrowful. And yet, I knew that without our having to do anything at all, in a short time, another feline in need would simply arrive and join us and the triplets’ cat, Paracelsus.

I was right. I caught sight of Amadeus tonight for the first time. It turns out he showed up awhile ago but he’s been spending a lot of time in Iris Nell’s room.

He has some curly white fur on top of his head, like an 18th century wig, which is why Iris Nell named him Amadeus. (Well, that and the fact that he writes concertos and plays the harpsichord, so what else are you going to call him?)

As with any underground railroad, I always wonder how the participants communicate? Now, whenever I see a couple of cats together, I imagine that they’re weighing where exactly to direct that next feline in need, sort of like parents in Manhattan angling to get their kids into the best pre-school.

“Which home has the best napping arrangements? Are there ample snacks?”

Or maybe executive cats are just hanging around behind vets’ offices waiting for the workers to leave at night so they can sneak in and hack the medical files.

“Okay, it looks like old Roscoe’s not doing so well. This means a spot’s about to open up over on Elm Street. Hit it!”

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