A tale of two kitties

It was cute when they were little. The would drag their tiny bodies up to my sleeping chest and stare at me with their little eyes, doing their best black velvet imitations of starving kitties.

But, to borrow a quote from one of the late, great James Herriot's books, "them kittens is now big cats." Tiny Karma, who weighed less than half a pound when I rescued him back in November, is now a whopping 6 pounds and big brother Kismet is up to 6 1/2. So imagine 12 1/2 pounds of hungry "kittens" with sharp claws jumping onto your chest and kneading, kneading, kneading.

I fed them. You may wonder who is training whom here, but I'm not. I know my place in the cat universe is Lesser Servant Who Supplies Food, Water, Litter and is Sometimes Permitted to Cuddle. Those of you who are not "cat people" are asking yourselves -- "Why?"

Those of you who are cat people are just nodding and saying, "Been there, done that, got the hairball to prove it."

You need to see the "Nature" episode that aired Sunday morning. It was all about cats and dogs and why we love them, with very different answers coming from the cat lovers and the dog lovers. My favorite line from the show was "Dogs have a family. Cats have a staff." As a member of that staff, I had to laugh and confess how true it is.

The show also dispelled the myth that you are either a cat person or a dog person. There were several folks they interviewed who had both and loved both -- in different ways for different reasons. I consider myself an "animal person" -- I love them both.

I've had more dogs than cats in my life, but right now, because of everyone being at work or school, dogs are too high maintenance. I don't mind leaving a cat alone. As the Lesser Servant, I know this is what my mini masters want anyway. But I would be consumed with guilt driving off and leaving a dog behind, those big eyes watching from the picture window and asking "Why? Why, Mom? Why?"

I get enough of that from my kids.

One of the fun aspects about owning any pet is naming it. You get to use names only celebrities and celebuwannabes actually name human children. We've had some fairly boring ones -- Silver, KrisKitty, Pluto and Beauregard. But then we've also had Jellybean, Jack Dragon, and my favorite name (and least favorite dog) Oblika Punch. They only thing they've had in common is they were all pound critters or rescues.

I think the two different kinds of pets fulfill different kinds of needs. Dogs provide that undying, unswerving, slavish devotion, but they need a little more attention in return. Cats provide quiet company, but unless you haven't fed them, oh, every five minutes or so, they don't make a lot of demands. Devoted? Only when you've got tuna breath.

But both species have something else in common, besides causing you to spend your kids' college funds getting them spayed, sprayed and vaccinated. A pet you've bonded with, whether it barks or mews, knows when you're upset and knows how to keep you company. The late Tasha, who was aloof even for a cat, always knew when I was in pain or upset and would sit in my lap and purr. Jack Dragon, a police school drop-out German Shepherd we got from the pound in Alabama, would come lean against my leg, not demanding attention, but providing it.

Even my K-Kitties, as young as they are, can sense our moods and respond to them. If I'm blue, I'm usually in front of the computer, playing endless games of solitaire. Before the second game is through, I've got a cat on each knee, purring and still. These are the same madcaps who rip through the house destroying plants, pantyhose and peace of mind any other time.

Scientists have proven that pets can lower your blood pressure (when you're not screaming at them over the remains of your favorite jade plant) and Alzheimer's patients will respond to pet therapy when they won't to anything else.

But pets -- cats or dogs -- do more than extend your life. They make it much, much richer.

--This column is dedicated to Socks the cat, who was the Clinton family pet during Bill Clinton's presidency, and later was given to Bill Clinton's secretary Betty Currie. Socks had to be euthanized this month due to cancer.