MY CAT IS A ROMAN GENERAL

"In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this." – Terry Pratchett

"Of all God's creatures there is only one that cannot be made the slave of the lash. That one is the cat." – Mark Twain

"I have lived with several Zen masters—all of them cats." –Eckhart Tolle

"There are two means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats." –Albert Schweitzer

MY CAT IS A ROMAN GENERAL

He just appeared. It was the morning my sweet Russian Blue cat died. She was like a part of my heart and I was so, so sad. But each day brings tasks and duties that MUST be attended to, and so it was the day to take out garbage—just a reminder that things go on.

I was intermittently crying that whole day, but got myself together and handled the bags that needed to be placed in the bins for County pick up. Then I saw him. He was sitting in my neighbor’s driveway, staring and staring. It was as if I felt his gaze. He didn’t waver but sat like a statue piercing me with his look. He seemed frozen in time, not moving at all.

If fate was sending me a gift or a guardian or a cat to fill the empty heart I had, fate was really smart because a black cat was sent. You see, through my whole life I have had a mystical relationship with black cats. As a small child my mother would put me in my playpen with our black cat, Captain Midnight, as she had so named him. You see the moniker for a cat in our family has always been of the utmost importance, like naming a new member of your family.

It didn’t become strange for a while, but literally everywhere we moved, if we did not have a black cat at that time—one soon appeared. It was like clockwork—wherever I checked in a black feline was soon to follow. It got to be the family joke that I was a witch and my familiar would soon show up if I moved in. Now before things get too woo-woo, I find it coincidental and attributed it more to the way I fed every stray that came my way.

And so on this sad day when the latest black cat showed up I was not astonished at all. He had come from the nether world of guardian angels I thought. He was a cosmic stand-in for the angel I had loved for the past 14 years until she succumbed to kidney problems. He looked sturdy this cat, like you could roller skate on him and he would not flinch. I pondered whether he was an apparition or a real cat.

Well, of course I started to feed him and of course he stayed. And what must follow?--the naming of the feline, of course. So many names ran through my mind in the few days that followed—Smokey, Blackie, Ebony—but none seemed to fit. Until I watched a favorite movie starring Russell Crowe. You see, I have watched GLADIATOR a record number of times. First, Russell looks really buff, and is a stalwart leader of his Roman legions. He loves his wife and son dearly though he has to go to battle often. BUT the most important quality of this man is his LOYALTY. He honors the emperor with his service and his code. He is trustworthy, brave in battle, a man among men. Of course he has won my heart as there is nothing more appealing to me than a man with a code, an honor that shines from him, and moves him to brave feats and keeps him constant for those he serves and protects. SO I had a name for my new visitor—the name of Russell’s character— I could practically recite his description of himself by heart:

“My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the armies of the North. General of the Felix Legions. Loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next.”

See what I mean? There’s a guy that will not desert you, who will stick, who will be your true guardian. And so, the cat had a name-- Maximus Decimus Meridius, and he shall henceforth be known as MAX.

And so he has stayed, and as I type this, sleeps on a box outside the huge window of my kitchen that looks out on my neighborhood. He will not come in and stay. He is a wanderer, but one who finds his way home at meal time. He is cool, aloof, manly, strong—but what else could one expect for a guy named after a courageous Roman General? I feel he will never truly be mine, but isn’t that true of most cats? They have a mind of their own and will not be controlled. They will share their favors as they choose, rolling for us occasionally, being alert to noises as if to protect us and sometimes, yes, sometimes . . . filling a gap in an aching heart.