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The Cat Came Back
Dec. 10th, 2006 11:29 pmHe would come bounding out of the garage on cat’s feet, rushing towards the approaching automobile as if to run under its wheels. This image always comes to my mind when I think of Persephone. The minute I hit the garage door opener and the door began to rise, out would bounce my graying, shaggy, black cat, whining for the food he knew I would give him once I stopped my car. The food was the reward he would receive for doing his tricks: leaving the house on command; rolling over on the driveway pavement; and begging by putting his front paws on the running board of the car when I opened the driver side door after parking. This pattern of
tricks for treats evolved over a long period, but my discovery of them was quite accidental. It never occurred to me that they were tricks, until Prisa marveled at them one day. Now I wonder who trained whom.
Persephone was always my cat and kitten. Kathy H. brought him to our home, over 15 years ago, as a pet for Prisa, but he soon became, “Dad’s Cat”. I named him (misnamed him, actually), fed him, and took him to the vet when he ailed. He was a static haired, bundle of black fur when he first arrived. Kathy claimed that she had personally selected HER for us because she was the friendliest and most affectionate kitten of Blackie’s litter. This kitten gravitated to people, and loved to be petted and held. I convinced Prisa that the name Persephone would be classic. Persephone was the Greek wife of Hades and queen of the Underworld. Prisa, reluctantly, agreed, but she always called him Kitty. Persephone was the accepted name by the time the vet informed me that he was a tom. Try as we did to rename him Percy, the original name stuck, despite the gender confusion, and need for explanation.
Persephone grew up to be an outdoor part of the family, standing sentinel by the doors and windows hoping to get inside. His outdoor status became necessary when we lost confidence in his toilet training. Whenever we allowed him in for short periods, we would find wet urine stains or dried poop. The garage became his room, but he never accepted his lot as an outdoor cat. He needed human proximity and company. He slept along side our bedroom window, watched me fix breakfast through the backyard, sliding glass door, and entered any entry left open for more than 2 minutes. His residence with us corresponded with the high school, college, and young adult years of Prisa and Tonito. As the house emptied for longer and longer periods, Persephone’s constant presence became more and more reassuring.
As I think of my time with Persephone, I recall three events most clearly: The time I took Persephone to the vet for neutering; the occasion that he caught his first prey as a hunter; and when he failed to return home from one of his infrequent absences.
Persephone was 2 or 3 years old when his visits to other homes in the neighborhood alerted us to the possibility that he was “catting around”. The most irritating aspect of this period was the catfights that occurred outside our bedroom windows, on weekends, in the early mornings. There was no doubt about what was going on. Persephone was one of 2 or 3 cats paying court to a large, voluptuous, orange and white tabby cat. I never thought he was having much success. Kathy was the first to mention the “S” word. I procrastinated as long as possible. I insisted that Persephone’s timid personality and repeated battered and bloodied appearance was evidence that he was not sexually dominant. However, the fact that the chubby tabby cat kept hanging around our house pointed to another conclusion. Persephone might not have been a very effective fighter, but he did attract one lucky lady.
I don’t recall many details surrounding his spaying. I delayed the operation for as long as possible. I insisted that it coincide with my monthly principal’s meeting, which would allow me to drop him off at the vet’s in the morning. The day of the procedure, he came right to me when I called. All was fine until I put him inside the Carrier Box and closed the lid. He then began growling, in a long, low, humming voice. I imagined that he was pleading with me. I kept telling him that everything would be fine, and that it would be over soon. I even promised him unlimited food and treats. When I picked him up after the operation, I kept apologizing in the car. Persephone was remarkably forgiving. He still came when I called, and he continued to seek my hand and caresses. He was always a loving, pettable cat.
If there was one area of puzzlement about Persephone, it was his indifference with hunting. He came from a bloodline that promised incredible prowess. Blackie, his mother, was a legendary hunter. KenH\ H. would regale us with tales of the gophers and rabbits Blackie would stalk, kill, and drag back to her litter. I expected to see some evidence of this hunting heritage, but, year after year, nothing happened. I finally despaired, and dropped the expectation. Then one day I noticed a limp.
When Persephone was 10 years old, he developed a pronounced limp in his rear, right leg. Prisa was in her senior year of college and visiting at the time. When she noticed the limp, she insisted that it was serious, and required medical attention. Two days and $300 later, the vet could not explain the reason for the limp, but she did prescribe lots of expensive medication. The vet also pointed out that Persephone was tremendously overweight, and admonished me for over feeding him. Motivated by the huge medical bill, I placed Persephone on a Spartan diet of one meal per day. Sure enough, both his rotund appearance and his limp disappeared in a few months. He was looking sleek and healthy, and moving very well. It was at this time that I finally discovered evidence of Blackie’s genetic traits.
I remember looking out the front window one day, to see Persephone playing with a toy on the lawn. Persephone was no longer a kitten, and this type of play was unusual. I walked outside, curious over what object could elicit the youthful behavior. I was shocked to see that it was a dead bird. I could not believe it. After all these years, Persephone had finally bagged a bird. I even telephoned Prisa at college to tell her of this milestone. Bewildered by the news, Prisa wanted proof that the bird was not already dead, from natural causes, before Persephone found it.
As children, Tonito and Prisa learned a catchy song on Sesame Street called The Cat Came Back. It was a silly ditty about a man’s frustrated attempts at getting rid of his cat. Each stanza sang of a new attempt at killing this cat, but the refrain was always the same:
“But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea”
Persephone would occasionally disappear for one or two days, but he always came back. These absences were infrequent, but not unusual. On those rare occasions, I would reassure Prisa (and sometimes, Kathy) with the words to the song, and tell her “the cat would be back, because he couldn’t stay away”. Only this time, Persephone did not come back. He did not reappear outside the sliding glass door in the morning. He did not respond to my call when I filled his dish with food and water. He did not rush out to greet me when I opened the garage door in the evening. On the third day of his absence, I suspected the worst. I recalled his recent loss of appetite, and his walking away from full plates of food. Persephone had become listless, and he was showing his age. When Prisa came home for Thanksgiving, I told her that I believed Persephone was gone and would not be back. I remembered that his mother, Blackie, also disappeared. Ken believes that during one of her hunting expeditions on the hill behind their house, she became the game to the coyotes that frequented the Hidden Hills area. It was the law of the jungle, the food chain at work. Somehow, I couldn’t accept that scenario. Persephone was not a hunter, and he was cautious. I think he knew it was time, and he left to die quietly in his sleep. Yet, I haven’t moved his food and water dish, and his canned food supply is still stacked in the garage. I keep thinking that he’ll come back.
The Cat Came Back
Written By: Harry S. Miller (with later folk additions)
Copyright Unknown
Old Mister Johnson had troubles of his own
He had a yellow cat which wouldn't leave its home;
He tried and he tried to give the cat away,
He gave it to a man goin' far, far away.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The man around the corner swore he'd kill the cat on sight,
He loaded up his shotgun with nails and dynamite;
He waited and he waited for the cat to come around,
Ninety seven pieces of the man is all they found.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
He gave it to a little boy with a dollar note,
Told him for to take it up the river in a boat;
They tied a rope around its neck, it must have weighed a pound
Now they drag the river for a little boy that's drowned.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
He gave it to a man going up in a balloon,
He told him for to take it to the man in the moon;
The balloon came down about ninety miles away,
Where he is now, well I dare not say.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
He gave it to a man going way out West,
Told him for to take it to the one he loved the best;
First the train hit the curve, then it jumped the rail,
Not a soul was left behind to tell the gruesome tale.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The cat it had some company one night out in the yard,
Someone threw a boot-jack, and they threw it mighty hard;
It caught the cat behind the ear, she thought it rather slight,
When along came a brick-bat and knocked the cat out of sight
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
Away across the ocean they did send the cat at last,
Vessel only out a day and making water fast;
People all began to pray, the boat began to toss,
A great big gust of wind came by and every soul was lost.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
On a telegraph wire, sparrows sitting in a bunch,
The cat was feeling hungry, thought she'd like 'em for a lunch;
Climbing softly up the pole, and when she reached the top,
Put her foot upon the electric wire, which tied her in a knot.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The cat was a possessor of a family of its own,
With seven little kittens till there came a cyclone;
Blew the houses all apart and tossed the cat around,
The air was full of kittens, and not a one was ever found.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The atom bomb fell just the other day,
The H-Bomb fell in the very same way;
Russia went, England went, and then the U.S.A.
The human race was finished without a chance to pray.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
tricks for treats evolved over a long period, but my discovery of them was quite accidental. It never occurred to me that they were tricks, until Prisa marveled at them one day. Now I wonder who trained whom.
Persephone was always my cat and kitten. Kathy H. brought him to our home, over 15 years ago, as a pet for Prisa, but he soon became, “Dad’s Cat”. I named him (misnamed him, actually), fed him, and took him to the vet when he ailed. He was a static haired, bundle of black fur when he first arrived. Kathy claimed that she had personally selected HER for us because she was the friendliest and most affectionate kitten of Blackie’s litter. This kitten gravitated to people, and loved to be petted and held. I convinced Prisa that the name Persephone would be classic. Persephone was the Greek wife of Hades and queen of the Underworld. Prisa, reluctantly, agreed, but she always called him Kitty. Persephone was the accepted name by the time the vet informed me that he was a tom. Try as we did to rename him Percy, the original name stuck, despite the gender confusion, and need for explanation.
Persephone grew up to be an outdoor part of the family, standing sentinel by the doors and windows hoping to get inside. His outdoor status became necessary when we lost confidence in his toilet training. Whenever we allowed him in for short periods, we would find wet urine stains or dried poop. The garage became his room, but he never accepted his lot as an outdoor cat. He needed human proximity and company. He slept along side our bedroom window, watched me fix breakfast through the backyard, sliding glass door, and entered any entry left open for more than 2 minutes. His residence with us corresponded with the high school, college, and young adult years of Prisa and Tonito. As the house emptied for longer and longer periods, Persephone’s constant presence became more and more reassuring.
As I think of my time with Persephone, I recall three events most clearly: The time I took Persephone to the vet for neutering; the occasion that he caught his first prey as a hunter; and when he failed to return home from one of his infrequent absences.
Persephone was 2 or 3 years old when his visits to other homes in the neighborhood alerted us to the possibility that he was “catting around”. The most irritating aspect of this period was the catfights that occurred outside our bedroom windows, on weekends, in the early mornings. There was no doubt about what was going on. Persephone was one of 2 or 3 cats paying court to a large, voluptuous, orange and white tabby cat. I never thought he was having much success. Kathy was the first to mention the “S” word. I procrastinated as long as possible. I insisted that Persephone’s timid personality and repeated battered and bloodied appearance was evidence that he was not sexually dominant. However, the fact that the chubby tabby cat kept hanging around our house pointed to another conclusion. Persephone might not have been a very effective fighter, but he did attract one lucky lady.
I don’t recall many details surrounding his spaying. I delayed the operation for as long as possible. I insisted that it coincide with my monthly principal’s meeting, which would allow me to drop him off at the vet’s in the morning. The day of the procedure, he came right to me when I called. All was fine until I put him inside the Carrier Box and closed the lid. He then began growling, in a long, low, humming voice. I imagined that he was pleading with me. I kept telling him that everything would be fine, and that it would be over soon. I even promised him unlimited food and treats. When I picked him up after the operation, I kept apologizing in the car. Persephone was remarkably forgiving. He still came when I called, and he continued to seek my hand and caresses. He was always a loving, pettable cat.
If there was one area of puzzlement about Persephone, it was his indifference with hunting. He came from a bloodline that promised incredible prowess. Blackie, his mother, was a legendary hunter. KenH\ H. would regale us with tales of the gophers and rabbits Blackie would stalk, kill, and drag back to her litter. I expected to see some evidence of this hunting heritage, but, year after year, nothing happened. I finally despaired, and dropped the expectation. Then one day I noticed a limp.
When Persephone was 10 years old, he developed a pronounced limp in his rear, right leg. Prisa was in her senior year of college and visiting at the time. When she noticed the limp, she insisted that it was serious, and required medical attention. Two days and $300 later, the vet could not explain the reason for the limp, but she did prescribe lots of expensive medication. The vet also pointed out that Persephone was tremendously overweight, and admonished me for over feeding him. Motivated by the huge medical bill, I placed Persephone on a Spartan diet of one meal per day. Sure enough, both his rotund appearance and his limp disappeared in a few months. He was looking sleek and healthy, and moving very well. It was at this time that I finally discovered evidence of Blackie’s genetic traits.
I remember looking out the front window one day, to see Persephone playing with a toy on the lawn. Persephone was no longer a kitten, and this type of play was unusual. I walked outside, curious over what object could elicit the youthful behavior. I was shocked to see that it was a dead bird. I could not believe it. After all these years, Persephone had finally bagged a bird. I even telephoned Prisa at college to tell her of this milestone. Bewildered by the news, Prisa wanted proof that the bird was not already dead, from natural causes, before Persephone found it.
As children, Tonito and Prisa learned a catchy song on Sesame Street called The Cat Came Back. It was a silly ditty about a man’s frustrated attempts at getting rid of his cat. Each stanza sang of a new attempt at killing this cat, but the refrain was always the same:
“But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea”
Persephone would occasionally disappear for one or two days, but he always came back. These absences were infrequent, but not unusual. On those rare occasions, I would reassure Prisa (and sometimes, Kathy) with the words to the song, and tell her “the cat would be back, because he couldn’t stay away”. Only this time, Persephone did not come back. He did not reappear outside the sliding glass door in the morning. He did not respond to my call when I filled his dish with food and water. He did not rush out to greet me when I opened the garage door in the evening. On the third day of his absence, I suspected the worst. I recalled his recent loss of appetite, and his walking away from full plates of food. Persephone had become listless, and he was showing his age. When Prisa came home for Thanksgiving, I told her that I believed Persephone was gone and would not be back. I remembered that his mother, Blackie, also disappeared. Ken believes that during one of her hunting expeditions on the hill behind their house, she became the game to the coyotes that frequented the Hidden Hills area. It was the law of the jungle, the food chain at work. Somehow, I couldn’t accept that scenario. Persephone was not a hunter, and he was cautious. I think he knew it was time, and he left to die quietly in his sleep. Yet, I haven’t moved his food and water dish, and his canned food supply is still stacked in the garage. I keep thinking that he’ll come back.
The Cat Came Back
Written By: Harry S. Miller (with later folk additions)
Copyright Unknown
Old Mister Johnson had troubles of his own
He had a yellow cat which wouldn't leave its home;
He tried and he tried to give the cat away,
He gave it to a man goin' far, far away.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The man around the corner swore he'd kill the cat on sight,
He loaded up his shotgun with nails and dynamite;
He waited and he waited for the cat to come around,
Ninety seven pieces of the man is all they found.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
He gave it to a little boy with a dollar note,
Told him for to take it up the river in a boat;
They tied a rope around its neck, it must have weighed a pound
Now they drag the river for a little boy that's drowned.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
He gave it to a man going up in a balloon,
He told him for to take it to the man in the moon;
The balloon came down about ninety miles away,
Where he is now, well I dare not say.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
He gave it to a man going way out West,
Told him for to take it to the one he loved the best;
First the train hit the curve, then it jumped the rail,
Not a soul was left behind to tell the gruesome tale.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The cat it had some company one night out in the yard,
Someone threw a boot-jack, and they threw it mighty hard;
It caught the cat behind the ear, she thought it rather slight,
When along came a brick-bat and knocked the cat out of sight
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
Away across the ocean they did send the cat at last,
Vessel only out a day and making water fast;
People all began to pray, the boat began to toss,
A great big gust of wind came by and every soul was lost.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
On a telegraph wire, sparrows sitting in a bunch,
The cat was feeling hungry, thought she'd like 'em for a lunch;
Climbing softly up the pole, and when she reached the top,
Put her foot upon the electric wire, which tied her in a knot.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The cat was a possessor of a family of its own,
With seven little kittens till there came a cyclone;
Blew the houses all apart and tossed the cat around,
The air was full of kittens, and not a one was ever found.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
The atom bomb fell just the other day,
The H-Bomb fell in the very same way;
Russia went, England went, and then the U.S.A.
The human race was finished without a chance to pray.
But the cat came back the very next day,
The cat came back, we thought he was a goner
But the cat came back; it just couldn't stay away.
Away, away, yea, yea, yea
