Santa Fe Opera

The Diva Herself

10:00 PM Opera

It starts in the evening, but sometimes when we return during the day, the evidence is still there. Red rags strewn about, and sometimes a hand towel or sock thrown into the mix. When I get up in the morning, I pick up at least three of the treasured red cloths on my way to the kitchen.

My husband and I live with three adopted animals: our dog, Pittie Reggie, Desi, our special needs cat, and Lucy, our last addition who got a bit of an attitude when we found out that this shelter kitty is pure Turkish Angora.

Although all three are hugely entertaining, Lucy has demonstrated a very unique talent. Somehow, this 9 lb. wonder can “sing” at the top of her lungs while running through the house with one of the red rags in her mouth. She’ll then drop the cloth and continue the yowling opera for another minute. Never anticipating the moment of this performance, naturally I don’t have my phone video ready. Not that this act could compete with the video cat climbing straight up a bedroom wall, playing taps on the piano, or walking across the room on only its front legs. But, we’re not big YouTube providers anyway. This just comes under the category of “you have to see this to believe it” for our friends and family.

 

Red Rag

Having read plenty of literature on cat behavior, and doing a bit of sleuthing on-line, I’ve found no explanation for this strange routine of Lucy’s. Is she creating a nest? The Vet did say that she had obviously had a teen-age pregnancy. Are these gifts to be presented to my husband or me, like the half-dead mouse if she’d been outdoors? Or is she reaching back to her ancient feline wildness – a version of some primal prehistoric roots?

I decided, after all of my investigation, that it isn’t necessary to understand why our pets do what they do. In spite of the wonderful “understanding your pet” shows on PBS, animals are still a mystery to us. I don’t need to create an allegory for my own life out of Lucy’s showmanship; I don’t need to see it as a microcosm of the universe’s balance, or another spiritual voice giving me guidance.

 

A Sock

I just need to enjoy Lucy’s uniqueness. We have a counter full of framed pictures of cats and dogs who have passed through our lives. Each one has brought his or her personality to the wonderful mix of love and play into our house. The crowd that now shares our space is as interesting in their interplay as any group we’ve had before. Reggie is cowed by Desi’s fearlessness, and completely besotted with Lucy. Desi is the smartest and most curious cat we’ve had. Only he could figure out how to remove the cover over the mechanics of a whirlpool tub just to see what’s in there. The morning and evening shenanigans of Lucy and Desi together, along with Reggie’s demand for chase-the-squeaky-green-alien play is the best stress-reliever ever.

Poems have been written about our pets, our own human attributes have been assigned to them, and metaphors have been created to make a good read. But really, our beloved critters deserve more than that. Let’s just give them the simple acknowledgement of their important role on our planet. They give far more to us (even the independents like Desi) than we give to them and, like all creatures, they’re a window into the amazing world beyond us humans. So I just sit back and enjoy the show for exactly what it is: Lucy doing her thing with great delight, and giving me a free ticket to see it.