FUNNY MUMMY with Ari Chávez
Cat Tales Ari’s resolve for collecting strays is challenged as her son yearns for a pet.
T
here are children who love animals, and wish for nothing more than a lion on the bookcase and a crocodile
under the bed, and there are those who run screaming at the sight of a dog. It goes without saying that I have the first
kind of child. In very many spades. The other day, he picked up a feather and ate it – I know – and then told me he was now able to grow his own feathers and turn into a bird. He would soon fly far away from me, he confided. Far, far away. Despite my preoccupation with possible feather-eating-
skittish as a colt and as destructive as a hurricane. My own mother
diseases that the Child was no doubt incubating then and there, I
found me a great trial in this regard, clearly not wanting anything
was fascinated.
else to look after other than the four children she already had who
“What colour are your feathers?” I asked, wondering if he would choose to be a brightly coloured parrot, or perhaps a peacock.
I have, of course, become my mother. Once a collector of strays
“Grey!” the Child said, eyes sparkling.
and lost things, I now DO NOT WANT anything else that requires my
Ahem. A practical choice, grey. It seemed out of character. The
time, care, attention, money or organisational skills. I do not want to
child would, if he could, festoon our house with dinosaurs and
pick up more poop. I do not want to be woken at un-Godly hours for
cows and pigs and penguins. Tigers in the garage. Otters on the
food, cuddles, a heater, a blanket or just because. Nope, I do not.
roof. That sort of thing.
I stared at the letter, the longing in it. My heart remained
But most of all, the Child wants that most mundane of animals. A cat. Last year he brought home a letter from school, a letter to Santa, in fact, which he’d deigned to write for his teacher, whom he loves fiercely and who has a rather enviable Way with him. In sloping letters he asked for a cat like Slinky Malinki, no less, who would sleep on his bed, play hide and seek with him, and whom he would, unceremoniously, call Kitty. Obviously, this was terrible news. When I was young and stupid, I brought home a kitten and insisted on a dog, whom my parents had to look after when I went travelling. When I was older, and should have known better, I turned up with a ridiculous Labrador puppy, who was as 24
were, just quietly, a Packet of Headaches for many, many years.
Offspring | winter 2017 | perth
stone but maybe not stone enough. I called my husband,
“In sloping letters he asked for a cat like Slinky Malinki, no less, who would sleep on his bed, play hide and seek with him, and whom he would, unceremoniously, call Kitty”
and put it to him. At this point, I should mention that the crazy Labrador puppy I bought is still with us, but she falls apart if left alone for more than an hour, so we have had to hire a Doggy Nanny for her for when we are at work. “NOT A GODDAMN HOPE IN HELL!” he bellowed. “ARE YOU CRAZY??!! WE ALREADY HAVE TO EMPLOY A NANNY FOR THE DOG!!!” Right then. Quite. Thank God one of us is being sensible. I stared at the Child, all spider legs and innocence. “Did you write this beautiful letter to Santa?” I asked, heart sinking.