Ms Kitty
A New York City Cat Tale
Ms Kitty turns 16 this month
In late spring 2010, a year after Moonbeam died unexpectedly, we had been unsuccessful at adopting a shop cat. Having a feline helper made the workday more bearable for me, especially on days when the customers were challenging, the demands were high, and the sales were low. Our search continued.
In June, I got a call from an actor who lived in the neighborhood, asking if we were still looking for a cat. He and husband were in a touring production of Chicago, The Musical, on their way to costume fittings with our friend Kevin - the Production Wardrobe Supervisor who oversaw the costumes and clothes for Chicago worldwide. Kevin told them we were looking for a cat.
As they walked their dogs that morning, on West 42 St opposite the morass of vehicles entering and exiting the Lincoln Tunnel, they saw a car open the passenger side front door, and toss a tiny kitten into the roadway. Appalled, one of the boys dodged the traffic to heroically rescue the cat from becoming road kill.
After notifying Kevin that they’d be late for their fittings, the actors arrived at BraTenders, dogs and cat in hand. They were only in town for a few days for the fittings, then they were back on the road, and they wanted to find a good home for the cat before leaving the city. It would be a win-win they cajoled.
I believed in the cat distribution system, and that this was a happy synchronicity, even though I was skeptical about leaving such a young kitten alone in the shop. Kittens were adorable, sure, but they could be holy little terrors too. THe walls were covered with bras and panties and shapewear, and articles of mass seduction with frills, and ribbons and strings, which kitties thought were for their entertainment and amusement. I could just see the stock room in the morning, with hosiery boxes toppled, and packages of pantyhose spilled and scattered across the floor. Was this a good idea?
Turns out, it was a good idea. Kitty was mischievous but not destructive. I had forgotten how much fun kittens could be. And a month later, in July, I was toppled in Times Square by a texting tourist and broke my ankle. After being home for a week, Alan said, “your cat misses you.” None of the employees would feed the cat or clean its box, or give it any attention. Alan hated doing it, and he expected Angela, his assistant, to do those things as part of her daily duties. She flat out refused.
And that is how Kitty came to live with me.
We had 2 senior cats at home, and I was relieved to be able to supervise their introduction and socialization. Cats are exceptionally territorial, and while Bo and Twitchy were on the mellow side, a little whippersnapper invading their space was not on their agenda. There was some hissing and screaming for a few days, then some pussyfooting around each other, and within a month, Kitty and Bo became friends. Twitchy came around eventually, and they lived happily together until they passed.
KittyKitty is going strong for 16, despite occasional flare ups of IBD and late stage renal disease. She suffered no ill effects after our companion Jack the Black Cat left this realm 3 years ago on June 6. That is another story.