Once Upon A Time Before This Time

 

Jasper

          In the before times, when all the Boomers were children still, and the world was just beginning for them, there was a time when dogs and cats ruled the neighborhoods in the Pacific Northwest woods and fields and suburbs. I would hazard that such was the case all over the world.

          Of course, it was a matter of opinion, which was actually the boss on any street or in any particular backyard. My father always said that the dogs were really in charge. They ranged freely doing pretty much as they wished. Anytime a person was out of doors, there would be a local dog supervising, just to make sure, you know. To see that you did your job correctly!

          If I had asked a dog who ruled the neighborhood, he would say, “why I do. I watch and ward. My eye is always open, and my voice is eager to protest evil! Let the burglar or brigand beware my teeth!”

          “Well said, sir!” I would say.

          But we know who truly ruled, monarch of the woods and fields. Magisterial in his grave mien, a mighty Tom Cat. Striped, or black, black and white, or parti-colored calico, he watched and judged it all. From his battle scared face to his twitching tail tip, every inch a king.

          These were the days before the fixing of what didn’t need to be fixed! And the fields and garages and woods brought forth young, as God willed it.

          Into this time was born a Tom kitten. He was as striped as all such good fellows are. His tail was short, and his head was large. His mother was attentive to himself and to his brothers and sisters, therefore he survived to grow and become a great-jowled sire of many.

          I believe that I shall name him Jasper. The name stands in for all the Toms I remember. All warriors, feline ronin. Each an absolute ruler of a certain square footage or acreage or however they organize themselves.

          If I had asked Jasper, “who rules here sir?” he might have said, “do you see this place? This backyard and this section of wooded land, and the greater block? I have absolute rule here. No other Tom would dare approach. Many are the scars and torn ears I have dealt out in my day!”

          A resonant and profound “meow”, self-contented and deep would have followed. More like a growl than a simple “meow.” “Grrrowel?”

          “But what of the dogs, sir?  What of them? Surely you fear those big leaping beasts?”

          “Oh lady, a dog’s nose is most awfully sensitive, and vulnerable you might say. They are very averse to having the nose torn. I fear them not! Let them beware my claws and my battle cries.”

          “But Jasper, sir” I might cry, “what is the meaning of all this warfare? Why must you have a kingdom?”

          “Why, it’s for the kittens, lady! Always the kittens. My get are multitudes, and they bear my stripes and my jaunty tail to mark them well! In each of these five houses I have a wife. And each wife has given me three or four sons and daughters every year!

          “They are my riches, the coin of my realm!” he would say.

          “Oh, Jasper, what is the meaning of it all? Tell me your true heart on the matter!”

          “Very well, madam, I will tell you. Kittens are a sort of medium of exchange. They are precious and each one is needed. A kitten given in love is a true gift of the heart. A gift that lives on. Not like a book, or a rose, or goodness knows what, lady! A kitten is the living proof of love. They are ineffable.

          “All of my children live in houses, barns, fields and even in businesses for many miles around. This is my success and the reason for my rule.”

          With that he would stalk away slowly, heavily, on powerful legs, finding his own way off into the brush and brambles until not even the tip of his stripy tail showed any more at all.

          Willie and Suzy agree that this is a true representation of local history, and that you may take it as it is given!