It's Tyler's world....

Upstairs we went and had our bagels.  Meals with my parents usually went the same way back in those days: my mother would serve my father, I would serve myself, and I would bring a magazine and read it at the table while my father stared at the TV. A car magazine, an entertainment magazine, something like that. I had and still have varying interests and am a voracious magazine and newspaper reader.  I read at the table mostly to annoy him.  We would ALWAYS have the exact same exchange:

“Danny, don’t read at the table.”

“Stop staring at the TV and I’ll stop reading this magazine.”

This was in the days before iPhones and iPads.  I read every magazine on my iPad these days, imagine if iPads existed back then?  There probably wouldn't be an argument, as everyone seems to stare at some sort of device these days rather than each other.

“So….” I asked.  “When do you think we can let Tyler see the rest of the house?”

“I don't know, he just got here.  Maybe in a few weeks?”  My mother seemed to be in NO hurry.  If it was up to her, Tyler would stay in the basement for the long term.

“Sigh, ok.” I knew when to give up and drop a subject.  I went back to the bagel and lox.  There almost always was some form of lox or lox spread.  I took in enough omega 3 from lox in my first 28 years to last several lifetimes.

We were just finishing our lunch when I suddenly heard…..a howl…..from the basement.

HOWL!  HOWL! 

It sounded like a poltergeist was in the basement.

“Um….I think Toy-LAH is awake.” My mother said.

Sure enough, there was what appeared to be…..a paw….actually an entire leg, sticking out from under the basement door. 

I couldn't help but laugh.

“Let’s go hang out with Tyler.” My father said.  Again, surprising me.  Of the two, I didn't think he would be the one who would take to a cat.  I always expected my mother to, but she was the one that wasn't totally on board with this….not yet anyway.

Keeping Tyler from seeing the rest of his house (much to his annoyance) we went back downstairs to the basement.  Tyler ran right in front of us, like a tour guide at the Met.

Meow?  MEOW???  MEOW!

He was happy to see us.  Back on the ping pong table for another session of rubbing, flipping onto his back, and general happy cat type stuff.  He LOVED to have his chin scratched, his head and ears as well. He was never able to get enough of that.

We spent the better part of the afternoon in the basement, watching TV, and just hanging with Tyler.  Tyler settled on the back part of one of the two floral couches that were down there (my mother had a thing for hideous floral couches, she may have been color blind) and just hung with us. Much to my disappointment, he didn't seem to want to sit in anyone’s lap. What he preferred to do was to just be in the same room and hang with us.  Like one of the family already. I focused on Tyler more than the TV that day.

The next day, Tyler was broken out of the basement. He howled for the better part of the night, so my mother caved.  I opened the door, and out popped Tyler.  If a cat could say WHOA, he would have said it.  I swear his jaw dropped a little and his eyes bugged out.  For the next several hours, Tyler was the non-stop explorer.  He checked out every corner of the house, jumped on whatever he could jump on, and left his mark on EVERYTHING. Tail straight up the entire time, which is cat for VERY HAPPY. This was his home, his territory, and it became his job to patrol every corner.  This took planning! This took windows to stare out of! He looked out and surveyed his new territory from every possible window and vantage point. Tyler was from minute one what is known as an “alpha cat.”  He was the boss, he was in charge, we were just his subjects.

I followed him from a discreet distance.  This was, after all, my first experience with a cat, and I did not want to miss a thing. 

“Let him explore, Danny.” My father called out from his chair.  I ignored him. Not only because I wanted to be with Tyler, but also because I hated when he called me Danny. The pipes the pipes weren’t calling for me, you know? Besides, it was the most fun I had had in a very long time.  Just watching Tyler explore, look around, it warmed my heart.  It was all new to me, and I loved it!

“This is your home little boy.  Your home. What do you think?”  He would look at me and flip on his back.  By this time he was letting me rub his stomach and chest as well as his chin.  He would even grab onto me with all four of his paws and hold onto my arm while I did that, which was adorable.  Not even a full day together and we had an inseparable bond.  I was told that pets bond with the person that does the actual rescuing from the shelter.  Since that was me, he bonded with me instantly.  That bond lasted for the rest of his life. 

That night Tyler ate his dinner (fancy feast) in the kitchen with us.  As a family.  I was smiling so much my cheeks hurt. We timed it so he would eat when we would eat, and it was adorable.  The sliding glass door to the backyard and pool was off the kitchen, so that evening, following his dinner, he sat on the rug by that door, cleaned his face with his paw (I love when cats do that), and watched the world go by.  That became his nightly routine.  Dinner. Clean face. Watch world.  I loved to just sit and watch him.  What was he thinking? What was he staring at? Was he happy?  Did he like his home? 

It felt like he had always been one of the family.

That evening, just as I was watching TV in bed, there was a meow and a light scratch at my door.  There he was, Tyler wanted in.  Who was I to say no?  I got back in bed and let him wander around, not knowing what to expect.

Ten minutes later, Tyler jumped on the bed and walked onto my chest and sat down, staring right at me. Eyes half shut, a usual sign of relaxation.

“Hello little boy. How can I help you?”

Chirp.

Head-but.

Purr.

I was so happy I could cry.  I kissed his head and he curled up next to me.  I put an arm around him and we fell asleep that way.

My cat and me.