The Bambas arrived, and Nick said, “That’s him! That’s the suspect. We saw a purple car turning into the shantytown road when we were driving to the theater. Come on! We’ll find Yum Yum! I’ve got a gun in the glove compartment!”
Shantytown was a slum of junk housing, and a purple car was parked alongside an old trailer home. Through the window we could see a bearded man on a cot and stacks of obviously stolen goods. We barged in.
“Freeze!” Nick said, waving the handgun.
“Where’s the cat?” I demanded.
“N-n-now!” came a pitiful cry from what looked like a closet.
It was a toilet, and Yum Yum was cowering in the rusty bowl.
While I wrapped her in my jacket, Nick kept the befuddled suspect covered and barked over his shoulder, “Call the police from my cell phone!”
Poor little Yum Yum! What a terrifying experience it must have been. There were bloody scratches on the man’s face. Were they her claw marks? Or Koko’s?
The morning after . . .
I slept poorly, following the ghastly incident. Rather than relive the harrowing emotions of the night, however, I purposely envisioned the pleasures and chuckles of life with Yum Yum. Koko was such a remarkable cat that I tended to let him dominate the scene. Now, I reviewed Yum Yum’s contributions like a series of brief film clips:
Yum Yum on a serious mission: She would walk through the room in a straight line with a resolute step, looking neither to left nor right, ignoring questions and friendly greetings. Her back was as straight as a shelf, and her tail was perfectly horizontal. She knew where she was going, and she went there. She was going to the kitchen for a drink of water.
Yum Yum in a playful mood: She would flop over on the floor and play dead, and I would give her soft underside a gentle nudge with the toe of my shoe. Instantly, she would galvanize into fierce action: coiling around my shoe, grabbing my ankle with her forelegs, and kicking with her hind legs. It was her favorite game.
Yum Yum being amiable: She had several lovable tricks, above and beyond the rubbing of ankles and soulful stares (the little hoyden!). She would snuggle close to my rib cage when I read aloud, purring at the vibrations.
She would reach up with a paw and touch my mustache in wonder. When I lounged at the end of a busy day, she would arrange herself around my neck like a fur collar, finally biting my ear with discretion.
21.
more cool kokoisms
Every dog has his day. A cat has 365.
Opportunity knocks only once; grab that pork chop while no one’s looking.
Why sing for your supper? It’s easier just to stare at your empty plate.
Man works from sun till sun, but a cat gets by without lifting a paw.
To every problem there is a solution: try staring at the handle of the refrigerator.
Never complain, never explain; just throw up that wet fur ball.
Art is long; life is short; leave some scratches on the piano.
She had lived a sheltered life before joining our household and was slow to emerge from kittenhood until we spent that summer in a log cabin at the beach. Its interior must have looked strange and wonderful, especially the ceiling open to the roof twenty feet overhead, crisscrossed with log beams and rafters. It sparked a primitive urge, and she would never be the same.
Neither would I! I remember it now as my Early Yum Yum Period, which I perpetuated in verse.
I’ll always remember Yum Yum
And the way she flew through the air
Without any wings—just muscles like springs—
And a will to get where she was going
Without knowing quite where!
One minute she’d be on the mantel,
The next on the rafter up high.
Then down she would swoop, just missing the soup
Or chili or strawberry pie.
But . . . no matter how bad her behavior,
We forgave her.
She’d prowl around ten feet overhead
And pounce on my stomach as I lay in bed.
At dinnertime she’d slip off a beam
And land with her feet in a dish of ice cream.
She’d knock over a chair in the middle of the night,
Break some glasses, give us a fright.
All the while crowing with voice loud and clear
That would frazzle the nerves and shatter the ear.
Yes, I’ll always remember Yum Yum—
All devil, all angel, all brat.
And not much chin but reckless as sin!
All furry, all purry, all cat!
Postscript:
Yum Yum is now a poised, grown-up lady cat, but there are times—usually at the full moon—when there is a certain glint in her violet-tinged blue eyes. Is she getting that old feeling?
Contents
1. enter: kao k’o kung, howling
2. enter: yum yum, shrieking
3. confessions of a cat-illiterate
4. the cat who had 60 whiskers
5. yum yum the paw
6. koko and the siamese rope trick
7. yum yum and the interior designer
8. koko and the rum tum tugger syndrome
9. cats! who can understand them?
10. the matter of the silver thimble
11. cool koko’s almanac
12. why do cats do what they do?
13. do cats have a sense of humor?
14. the day yum yum got out
15. limericks: fun in the boondocks
16. cool koko also says
17. the fine art of naming cats
18. yum yum and the queen-size bed
19. koko’s unique social graces
20. kidnapped!
21. more cool kokoisms
22. yum yum discovers her wings
The private life of the cat who...: tales of Koko and Yum Yum from the journal of James Mackintosh Qwilleran Page 4