Caturday: Endora's Tale

“Jedi needs a friend,” the friend said.

Jedi, my rescue Chihuahua/Rat Terrier, did not need a cat friend.

Or did he?

Whenever we went on walks in Quapaw Quarter, Jedi tried to be friends with any cat that came near us. They would hiss or run. Poor Jedi.

It was the middle of the God-awful pandemic on a sweltering September day when the friend messaged to tell me her daughter had rescued a starving, dehydrated cat on a fence post. The cat was too weak to get down on its own. Her daughter rescued the cat, a grey tabby.

The cat did not fit in with their cat family. The friend had an anti-social that was a spoiled holy terror. For real. Mean little f***er was the only way to describe that cat. Mind you, at that point, I wasn't a cat person. But if I had been, I'd say the same thing about that cat. Then again, my friend wasn't the sweetest person you were ever going to meet.

She invited me and Jedi to meet this recused cat that she called “strange” and “creepy”.

So I did.

Jedi and I went to the friend's laundry room where she kept the skinny grey tabby cat with beautiful green eyes. Immediately, Jedi and the cat rubbed noses. They stared at each – with endearment.

A friendship bloomed immediately. FFS. Now what?

Her green eyes stared lovingly at Jedi and me. Those eyes reminded me of Endora from “Bewitched”. I immediately named her, Endora.

I noticed her ear was ragged like something had once attacked her. I added "Tatters" as a last name.

Just like that, the cat was mine.

Endora just a couple of days after her rescue.

A couple of days later Endora came to live with Jedi and me. I rented one side of an old, haunted house-turned-apartment building, built in the 1800s. Endora stayed downstairs in my office. Jedi and I stayed upstairs. No one knew I had Endora except the friend. Not the landlord, not the neighbors, no one.

Jedi and I went downstairs every day to see Endora. Jedi and Endora played while I worked. We hung out at night, too. After all, it was the pandemic. What else was there to do but isolate and hang?

Jedi and Endora learned quickly to gang up on me for food.

I bought Endora high protein cat food and soon she looked healthy. Very healthy.

One early October night, while watching Jedi and Endora played, I noticed something. Then my late mom’s voice popped into my head: “That's one pregnant cat.”

Mom and I once saw the biggest cat ever waddle across a parking lot. Mom said those words.

OMG. Endora was pregnant! She had to be pregnant when I adopted her. Kittens!!??

Sure enough, I called another friend who knew all-things cats. She verified the pregnancy. I made an appointment with the vet.

I borrowed a cat carrier and off I went with Endora wide-eyed and scared. I kept reassuring her, but I'm not sure we understood each other quite yet. (We certainly do now after nearly five years together. She knows when I'm sad and something is terribly amiss. She is very wise.)

You couldn't enter the vet office with your pet because of COVID-19. A vet tech came to the car and got Endora. When I returned to pick up Endora, she looked relieved to see me. The kittens' due date? November. Maybe four kittens!

I had doubts, though, about that due date plus I really wanted Halloween kittens.

But close to Halloween is the 27th. The number 27 has become a key number for certain events in my life including my mom's passing on August 27, 2017.

But October 27 was super special. It is the birthday of Simon Le Bon, the lead singer of Duran Duran and my forever teenage idol.

Forget Halloween kittens.

I wanted October 27th kittens. I told God that. "Hey, if these kittens are born on October 27th, I will keep all of them and I will take care of them. I won't separate this family at all."

I made that promise to God and Endora.

A large conference table, a little Victorian lounger and funky pink Vintage 1970s velveteen chairs sat around my home office where I taught writing workshops before the pandemic. Endora kept sleeping in the pink chairs.

"Oh, please do not let have these kittens in that pink chair," I told Endora.

However, just in case she did, I threw a sheet over them for protection. She watched me intently.

The apartment also had a walk-in closet with a glass door. I made made a little nesting area for her, but she never went in the closet.

I kept a little Christmas tree with twinkling lights glowing day and night and a radio playing for her.

Remember, I didn't want anyone to know about this cat. I seem to have a history with secret cats.

On the night of October 26, Jedi and I stayed with Endora the entire night and finally left her around 1:30 a.m. At six o'clock, I woke up and ran down the stairs like it was Christmas morning.

What was underneath the Christmas tree? Endora with three little kittens! Where did she have them? In one of the pink chairs!

She had lifted the cushion of the pink chair sonehow and draped the white sheet to cover everything so there was very little mess.

Endora was with her three little kittens and staring at me with love in her eyes. I took it as a sign from God and my grandmother who loved cats that I was supposed to keep this family together.

What was I going to name these little cats? All three looked different. There was a gray one, a calico with more white than black and brown patches and a dark brown calico with an orange lightning bolt on his head.

That's gotta be good luck, I thought.

Of course, it was almost impossible to immediately tell girls from boys. Ultimately, two girls and a boy. Serena Belle for the white calico, Minerva for the lightning bolt kitten and of course, Simon Le Cat.

A couple of days passed before I let Jedi see the kittens. Soon though, as they started walking with their eyes open, Jedi became their dad, watching, guarding, playing.

For a moment in time, everything was magical in the world of Jedi, Endora and the three little kittens.