To Be Worm for a Day

Posted on November 4, 2008 by Karen Johnson, DVM

I don’t mean I want to be a worm for a day–that would be odd. I want to be my cat for a day–his name is Worm. He’s the middle guy with a big sister (Freeway) and a younger brother (Gomez). Some of the things people say about middle kids probably apply to middle Pets, too. Like all my other Pets over the last 20 plus years, Worm was someone else’s reject, thrown out of a car on a very busy 4 lane thoroughfare in front of the hospital. A good Samaritan stopped, picked him up and handed him off to one of the receptionists at the hospital.

About 3 months old he quickly won everyone’s attention as he lay on his back with his front legs sticking straight out through the front of the kennel yelling loudly about the indignity of his situation. One can only take so much cat screaming until it becomes both irritating and distracting to everyone–Pets and people. So, of course I took him home with me–there’s always room for one more cat right?

Worm immediately decided my 7 year old neutered male dog Macki was his long lost mother. He nursed with gusto and loud slurping sounds that could be heard from any corner of the house. As Worm grew and Macki became increasingly stressed by the mom thing, he would stand up. No problem for Worm-he’d just stand on his back legs and latch on, slurping and purring with vigor. He could even nurse as Macki tried to walk away-not a problem. Weaning was an ordeal but we finally got it accomplished but I think somehow Worm became part dog from his experience. In fact, I think he really might be a dog in a cat’s body. He loves to eat dog food-Webster (my other dog) continues to be a little miffed since he would love to eat the cat food.

Worm sounds like an elephant or a buffalo when he runs back and forth across the deck or from one end of the house to the other–I don’t know why he does it other than for the pure joy of running. He does seem gleeful and sometimes I swear he kicks up his heels. He has absolutely no hunting or instinct for self preservation. He touches bugs with his nose or very gently with the tip of his paw like he can’t quite figure them out. He would never think to kill one, play with or even more unimaginable, eat one. He will gladly roll over and display his large white belly to anyone, friend or stranger, in hopes of getting it rubbed. He’s always losing his jewelry (collar). He falls off counters and furniture on a regular basis as he’s rolling around kneading the air or as we say “making kitty biscuits.” So, why do I want to be Worm for a day?

He sees the good in everything and everyone.
He goes with the flow and always lands on his feet.
He eats whenever he wants.
He has no chores or responsibility other than just being him.
He has no “to do” list.
His decisions are straightforward-sleep or play, sleep or eat, sleep or watch the world go by, sleep inside or outside, sleep on his couch, on my couch, on a cat tree.

When I get home tonight I know he’ll run to meet me, flop over so I can rub his belly, make sure I notice him glaring at his empty food bowl and sit on my lap as I wind down at the end of the day. Maybe I’ll ask him if he wants to be me for a day.



Share this.


Subscribe to the RSS