Back before I was married, my fiancé gave me an unusual gift for my birthday. It was a beautiful little white, half Persian/half (only the Mama cat knew for certain) kitten. When he handed me the kitten, I asked: “Is it a male or a female?” He replied: “I’m not sure, so why don’t you just call it Frances/Francis. That name can be for either one and since I got it from Francis and Phyllis Waters I believe Francis would be a good name for it.” That kitten; thereafter became known as Francis since it was a male cat after all.
Right from the get go, Francis was trouble with a capital T. I had only had him for a few weeks when he went missing. I could not find that kitten anywhere. I had called him and called “Here, Francis, Here and Here, Kitty, Kitty” until I was hoarse. Finally, late in the afternoon, I decided I was going to go looking for him one last time before dark. I went right back to a field close to the house where I had already looked, but this time when I called him I heard a weak little sound over next to the woods. I kept on calling and walking in that direction and this time he came out from in those trees. I could tell he had a hurt jaw and when he tried to Meow, it came out like Mew instead. Francis got over his injury, but after that he never could say Meow. It always sounded like Mew, Mew. Mew, Mew.
After J.A. and I got married, Francis lived with us in a small house in Ellerbe that we rented from Grover and Dot Snyder. One day when J.A. came in from fishing, he left some fish there on the counter while he took some over next door to our neighbor, Charles Snyder. He was gone for a few minutes because of course, he’s always liked to talk. When he came back into the kitchen he spied Francis up there on top of the counter. He was enjoying an early supper of raw fish and really seemed to appreciate J.A. having left some out for him. I don’t believe we even ate any ourselves because Francis had sampled every fish he got his mouth on!!
Another time, I put some steak out to finish thawing so I could cook it for the next day. It was some really nice looking round steak I was going to put in the crock pot for country style steak and gravy. I went back into the living room where J.A. was watching T.V. and sat down for a while. In a few minutes I thought I heard a noise from the kitchen. I walked back in there and looked without turning on the light. I didn’t see anything so I went and sat back down. It was only about two or three minutes later, when I heard a noise coming from the kitchen again. This time J.A. got up and walked in there to look. He didn’t see anything either until he turned the light on. There up in the sink, was that troublesome cat. He had that round steak around his neck. Apparently, Francis thought the proper way to eat round steak was to start in the middle and eat his way out!!
In spite of all these incidents, I really did love that white cat that couldn’t quite saw “Meow” like he was supposed to. When he got sick with some kind of cat virus that seemed to be going around town, I was really upset. We got him some medicine and of course we tried that age old remedy of raw eggs and milk, but nothing seemed to help.
One day when I came home from work, J.A. told me “Well, I buried Francis today.” I was upset; so I said something stupid like: “Was he dead?” He replied: “If he wasn’t, I played a mean trick on him.” Even though that was a smart aleck answer, I knew J.A. was upset about Francis dying. You see that half Persian/half (whatever else) cat had wormed his way into both of our hearts.
Isn’t that how it is with all of us? Whether we’re talking about a cat, a dog, a horse, or another human being, we still love them in spite of their faults.
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