Flashback to October, 2013
Last Sunday morning my husband Ray complained that our tabby kitten had kept him awake.
Not because Dori loves to chew our toes and has an impressive bite for such tiny teeth. Rather, the bell on her collar jingled non-stop throughout the night.
The same bell she’s worn since May.
I’ve been married a long time. I knew better than to suggest the giant chocolate bar he ate an hour before bedtime could have been a contributing factor to his insomnia.
And true — Dori loves to jingle. She has developed a hippy-hop-jog type-of-walk to make the bell accompany her every step. She doesn’t simply walk into a room. She prances. She gallops!
There are times when I am forced to search the house to find my other cats, but never Dori. If I listen, a sweet tinkling tone will tell me she’s upstairs in my office or the cat apartment, or maybe in the sun room playing with her toys.
At Ray’s request I removed Dori’s collar at bedtime. I’m all about keeping the mood in my house relatively calm — as calm as I can with six furry drama queens in residence. Notice I didn’t include my giant chocolate bar-eating husband as the seventh.
Again. I’ve been married a long time.
So now Dori is jingle-free from 10:00 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. Initially she freaked out. She pranced, she whirled, she galloped, she leaped tall cat trees at a single bound — all without sound.
In clear distress, she ran to me as if to ask whether something was wrong with her. I showed her the collar and shook it so she could hear the bell. And then I placed the collar by her breakfast bowl, ready to be slipped over her head in the morning.
Sometime in the night, long after my dear husband was fast asleep, I heard the sweet soft tinkling tone of a jingle bell being swatted by a tiny paw across the kitchen floor.
The sound continued far into the night.