g on Gran
His dad, the one who had burdened him with the name of Cheeseman, was a General in the Canadian Army, currently serving in a multinational task force in Iraq. That was cool, but it didn’t really help in everyday matters. Matters such as Gran’s cats, for example.
Gran had adopted a stray cat that had ended up having four kittens under her bed. Before that, the same cat had had two batches of kittens in Gran’s woodpile in the backyard. Gran had been feeding them ever since and the females in the bunch had gone on to have more kittens. Gran knew all their names and their genealogies. It was all way too complicated for Boneh to figure out. (Though he had to admit, the kittens were cute and even some of the cats were pretty interesting.)
But his main concern was that every morning, there was Gran, out in her purple silk bathrobe, feeding them and calling out, “Good morning, Maple! Oh there you are, Olive! Sugar, you lovely thing . . .”
Uncle Cawley had to buy dry cat food in 20 kilogram bags.
It was bad enough that one day, someone who knew Boneh might see Gran out in her bathrobe feeding the outdoor cats, but Boneh couldn’t even invite people over to his house for the indoor cats. They were everywhere and they always had the best seats in the house.
There was the mother, Ginger, who liked to perch on the back of Uncle Cawley’s chair and sleep all day. She didn’t seem to mind in the least that Gran had deprived her of her freedom and gotten her spayed. Then there were the kittens – Honey (the only male), Pudding, Cinnamon and Cookie. Gran had a thing for food names. All of them had been neutered and spayed, mercifully meaning that there would be no further cat reproduction in the house.
The kittens weren’t exactly kittens anymore, but they were always referred to as such to distinguish them from their mother.
The kittens this and the kittens that . . .
Much of Gran and Uncle Cawley’s conversations centered on the kittens.
“Oh look at Pudding!”
“Oh look at Cinnamon!”
“Oh look! Cookie’s found a new place to hide!” “Aren’t they all darling playing in that box?”