Way down deep, we’re all motivated by the same urges. Cats have the courage to live by them.
~Jim Davis
Hannah, a college girl who fostered strays, walked out of her apartment one day to discover a tiny orange kitten lurking at her door. She thought he was feral because he quickly ran away. The next day, the kitty returned. This time, he scratched at the door, so Hannah assumed he was hungry. He even rolled over, revealing his fluffy, white belly, and produced a purr so loud it was almost an exaggeration. Next came a pitiful, manipulative meow, as if pleading for a meal. Of course, kindhearted Hannah fell for it and fed him.
Eventually, Hannah took the two-month-old tabby to be placed for adoption at the Humane Society of Dallas County Dog & Kitty City. They named him Cheeto.
That’s where I came in, broken-hearted from the loss of our beloved Squeaky, a cat who had graced our lives for seventeen years. I was getting older, so I was looking for a maintenance-free kitty, if there was such a thing.
A gray kitten in a cage reached out to me, scratching my hand slightly and producing a few drops of blood. Simultaneously, a veterinary nurse was vaccinating Cheeto.
“Here. Hold him,” she said to me. I grabbed the fidgety little creature as he bled from his shot onto my bleeding hand. Our blood got co-mingled. That clinched it.
“It’s destiny! We were meant for each other,” I said.
I took him home and changed his name to Ollie.
Have you noticed that regardless of their humble beginnings, some cats develop an entitlement attitude from the get-go?
Ollie had nothing but the fur on his back when he came into our lives. His story could be “From Rags to Riches,” because he soon had toys, mechanical mice, strings, feathers, and balls. He had a different cat bed in each of three rooms, yet he slept with us in our bed. He received a scratching post as a “Welcome to Your New Home” gift from a friend. He had a cat condo with three levels. Before long, however, he turned his nose up at any toy or gift more than a few days old.
And he was even in our will. If anything were to happen to us, we bequeathed Ollie to our granddaughter, Lindsey.
One day, my husband and I decided to buy a new bed. I did an online search while Ollie was comfortably curled up in a designer shoebox by my keyboard. He was always by my side when I surfed the Internet, basking in the light and heat of the computer. Sometimes, I’d go to a cat site, and together we would peruse the latest craze in cat toys. He might give a high-five to the screen, indicating which item pleased him.
But back to the Internet search. I remembered sleeping on a wonderfully relaxing mattress at a hotel. It was the Westin Hotel Heavenly Bed. I was so pleased to find it on Amazon. I clicked to place it in my shopping cart but once it was there, I saw the very high shipping charge, so I didn’t go through with the purchase.
“See what you can find locally,” suggested my husband. “You could always go back online if you don’t find it in a store.”
The next day, I found the perfect mattress at a local mall. Free delivery. It arrived a couple of days later.
Soon after we were happily sleeping on our new bed I received a somewhat garbled message on our answering machine: “Here to deliver your (unintelligible). What’s (unintelligible) address?”
He left a number that I couldn’t understand, so I ignored it. I figured it was a wrong number or a telemarketer.
The next day came another message: “I’m in Dallas and have your mattress on my truck. Where do you want it delivered?”
The man left a number, and I called him right back. “There must be some mistake. They’ve already delivered our bed. We’ve been sleeping on it for several days now,” I told him.
“Lady, all I know is I have a Heavenly Bed on my truck, and I drove all the way to Dallas to bring it to you, as ordered.”
Once I heard “Heavenly Bed,” I realized what must have happened. I knew I had put the bed in my cart, but I also knew I had never completed the transaction. No one had access to my computer but me… and Ollie!
Maybe it was my fault for leaving my computer unattended, but who would have dreamed a cat would walk on my keyboard and hit just the right, or wrong, keys? I guess all it took was one step, literally, to enable the 1-Click feature and complete the order.
Amazon was so understanding. They referred me to the mattress vendor, saying, “If it’s fraud, they will work with you.”
I tried to explain it wasn’t fraud. My privileged cat, who has three beds of his own, but prefers ours, was the perp. I’m not sure the vendor believed that my cat placed the order, but they eventually agreed to cancel it.
That’s how Ollie became “the cat who almost purchased a Heavenly Bed on Amazon.”
Since then, I sign off my computer when I leave it unattended. With Ollie’s taste for fine things, there’s no telling what that cat will order next!
~Eva Carter
