FACE

January 07, 2010

Face…mmy FACE; or rather as the way of partner’s of different species seem to go, especially when the in stance dictates the feline world, I’mm FACE’s.

A year after arriving in South Dakota while building mmy home at the time; it wasn’t long before realising that one had to do something about the rodent population that seemed to want to be in the future of inhabiting the premise is including everything within the walls, on the rafters, floors, any whole or airspace.

“Not - a chants,” says I wild noticing the owner beforehand had gadgets of all kinds; D Conn-traps shuns placed around the opened plan of the soon to be livable domicile. Even quicker still I found and answered an ad in the local paper advertising the best remedy. A hunter it said; a mouser even better; and trained; even better still. Although all advertised issues were puzzlers since the ad added the subject in mind was only six weeks old. Where were the ad police? Six weeks?

Never before being in the presence of or even befriending one of this specific species, I simply admit to knowing nothing whatsoever about such things but thought; unless the tiny dot was a quick learner and well before its birth I was quite skeptic cull of not only the hunter title but mostly of the trained won. Who knew? I was about to find out.

Needless to say I was sure one could work with whatever was to come home with mme even if it wasn’t cute. Purrfect miss tresses mattered not; this was an emergence see? Without further a do, making a move post haste towards the door, jumping into the vehicle and heading for the address; I forgot it and had nothing written down to prove other why’s; but that didn’t stop us, Vic the Van ‘n I.

That being a very small town I was sure to be in the right direction when I remembered noticing a landmark mentioned in the ad. Everyone had to pass it if in fact they were locals most of whom did the twice a day gander always sticking to the posted 15 mph. The jump and ride took just two minutes and soon provided the view of the approaching building and the next door residence that supposedly held this miracle birth… and no it was quite warm and definitely not Christmas.

I got out of Vic, headed for what was surmised to be the core wrecked door and knocked. No one answered as I waited patiently for about two minutes while after one of those minutes heard a mothers orders being loudly protested from inside. At this time the correct address was questioned. I knocked again, waited another minute while thinking to leave when a short woman with glasses opened the door, smiled and said, “You’re here to take one of the new one’s, aren’t you?” I said, “Hello, well, that depends if any of ‘The New One’s’ and I have a mew chewal understanding.” She let mme in anyway.

She led mme through a few tornadoed looking rooms and on threw too the kitchen where four little humans were with flailing extremities tampering and scampering around. It appeared that they were already warned someone was to arrive and were trying to coral what looked like a half dozen little grey, black and white fury things. The furries looked as small as what I did not want to see but had the mind to discourage and purr haps to also distinguish in pretty short order if in fact one were scene. I was not wanting to add to the MMicks chore but in fact to subtract was the main reason for this venture.

The little tykes scurried about like they were auditioning for a professional rodeo manager and in need of a bigger than them belt buckle prize. They quickly cornered five of the six tiny fur balls. One was left under a chair sitting quite stationary while staring up at mme. “Ahaaaaaaaaah,” I said while immediately making an I two I connection. This fur ball had decided this is the slave who has come to serve me. Little did I know this is how it goes in the world of felines and humans. At this time of a new discovery and many adventures, I had no clue.

IT didn’t appear scared of anything or anyone and NO one was gonna make it move unless it wanted to. I should have known this was a clue… but didn’t. Remember I’ve never been in this situation before and anything that tiny would be nooooooo problem, right? Well, this is an obvious human flaw when viewing something much smaller than the palm of one’s hand. Original size means nothing when one considers a long growth period.

I walked over to the little tyke, and normally wouldn’t do this but without thinking slowly stuck mmy hand up to its face in the area of its mouth. Fortunately for mme and perhaps thinking of finger food, she began to lick it. That was it. I melted as it made a sound like someone would blow air into a balloon and while letting it out, would squeeze the rubber opening while getting a high pitched squeal from the air being let out. “Awwwwww,” I said,” Isn’t he sweet?”

Unbeknownst to mme, this was clue number two. “She’s not a he, she’s a she,” said the woman of the house. “OOOOOOOh, OK… now I know thanks… are you sure?” ”Yes, I’mm sure,” she said while picking up the little tail to offer mme a look. “No thanks, I’ll take your word for it, “ I softly said while looking away.

After a short minute of watching mme stroking the little creature, the woman kind of impatiently asked while at the same time trying to corner her off shoots of dancing and screaming little ones of her own,” Do you want that one?”

I said, “Sure, she’s beautiful and it looks like she may like mme too. I certainly like her so what’s your price?” Whereupon she looked at mme kind of incredulously and said, “Price? I didn’t have a price in the paper, did I?”A lost opportunity glance was in her I’s.

Smiling I said, “not that I can remember; I left the house while in mmy own tornado, but I wasn’t sure; sometimes those things aren’t mentioned until later; but OK if she’s free, then I’ll take her off your hands.” She looked at mme with a wide smile and I thought that might have been the 3rd clue.

We both headed towards the front door wild stepping over several years of laundry and it looked like more than seven decades of toys for a whole day care corporation; all the while little miss balloon was letting mme know that she was still with mme until we reached the vehicle and continued anyway just because she could. It seemed a little like she may have been calling for help.

I opened the door and caressed her in mmy arms while at the same time trying to insure her that in deed I was the help. I’mm sure she didn’t agree. After closing the door while positioning to do two things at once the vehicle was started. Quicker than lick it she’s split; wrestled herself away from this giant burglar who was taking her away from the only family she’s ever known. She dashed under the front seat.

I let her stay there not worrying if she’d scamper to get stuck under the gas pedal, jump up into the heat vent or even open a door and run for her life. Not knowing where all the energy let alone the constant stream of air came from but she ballooned all the way back to mmy place. Halfway there I turned up the local KILI radio station hoping she’d sing along. She did, or so it seemed. She was in toon.

Again, it was a very short ride. It wasn’t very good luck when trying to corner this thing in a van with many hiding places to get lost for one so tiny. I even looked inside and through the spare tire lug nut holes. In any case it was not that easy.

Finally at one point her constant ballooning gave her away each time she moved to a darker place but speed was her ally. Within a half hour I had cornered her. We were on the way into the house; I with a smile and she still ballooning towards new adventures. At this time with her in the palm of mmy hand I wondered how to make this thing bulge without steroids and ready for the quick hunt.

Inside we went. I immediately led her away from mmy ears and on to the floor when she scooted away from what it seemed like she thought an immediate and certain death. I didn’t see where or how far she scampered. Suffice it to say she was in hand so to speak and I wasn’t worried about losing her in this enclosed space.

I left plenty of food and water out for her, changed it everyday; called her seven thousand times a day and wondered if all the doors were still shut. It was still summer. Fortunately for mme, all night long and every night she let mme know she still had a good voice while doing a good imitation of a balloon’s release.

After three days I asked a neighborhood girl, without divulging the species, to see if she could find the thing making that balloon noise. She was a ten year old painter who lived up the street and visited all the time along with the dozen other kids of all shapes, genders and sizes. They all knocked on mmy door at the same time asking if it was time because all belonged to the group we started called, ‘The Spruce Street Colour Club.’ We did art together; especially when their parents needed a baby sitter during rain storms and who even then left the door open at all times. They loved the house and the old things we found to paint. I loved them.

Felicia heard the balloon, walked to the sound, crouched under a pile of unpacked boxes, reached around for a short time and just saved another life. Balloonface was from then on, hidden no more. The kids gathered around and all were in tiny heaven. The little kitten of course received plenty of affection from the admiring crowd; ooze ‘n ah’s heard for days. They loved her and she them. I on the other hand was just the guy who fed, watered her and provided the warm bed; at least until the kids left. Then we became pals every night as she cuddled at mmy head.

I also wondered how long it would take before she would, could or even want to tackle the sir come stance I had acquired her for in the first place. It didn’t take that long to find out.

Yes, in fact she is all the woman had advertised; and more. Within no time not a moving anything came within balloon diss tints. From time to time she’d be at the door with presents that she really should have left in the trees. When she came home one day with a muskrat I begged her to be more careful; smaller would do.

Needless to say, it’s been over 14 years since that day. Many stories can be written about her; more than four poems are about this wonder. We found her lasting name when she finally let mme look into her eyes while keeping her voice in good working order.

Her voice and markings helped name her. Oddly enough and quite the coincidence a marking formed by shades of fur is a double capital M on her forehead. I wasn’t going to call her MMe so her name began and stayed for quite a while as, ‘Balloonface.’

After a few months but still with a good voice only with a better volume which I found to be quite enjoyable even to this day as she’ll talk all day long in her many conversational tones; she answered to the shortened name of:
FACE

MMy gorgeous FACE
The sail that keeps mme steady
The strength that helps mme float
The anchor that whole’s mme in plays
Sum food ‘fore thought Ms. Face?
A continual talker who discusses nothing in particular
Except when more nourishment or a chants
Two sit bye a window is her whish
FACE… mmy traveling companion since 1995
She settles down two in joy the comforts
Of our surroundings no matter we’re, oui our
Be we’re of cats.
Such a princess, she is
Like Sadie perra de la Aqua was
The Chesapeake Bay retriever who used to be with mme
Ever since she was six months old,
‘A Touch of Disney’
Leaving us before the age of 17 living a good life
Yes, she lived a long time as a blessing I’ll never forget
People also like to touch FACE as they did Sadie
They’ll exclaim her cool, her charm, her posture and regal-ness often
That she is; FACE
You’ll always wait to catch mmy eye
Before stepping precisely, silently, slow paced
You carefully approach mmy horizontal; Face
While pointedly glancing, lingering - grace
Aware of every movement between a you ‘n I place
You perch yourself upon mmy slowly breathing chest
The weight of your ounces hardly noticed you’ve set yourself there
We stare into each other’s I’s
You’re purring gently, feeling our heart to hearts pace
Your soft, warm fur moves in rhythm with
The shades of black to gray to white straight strands
Stirring between mmy fingers, mmy hands… and you,
mmy Face