Edwin O’Conner’s 1956 movie, The Last Hurrah speaks of a political icon with some good, some bad, a little bit of ugly if one considers the times, the political Brain Trust of FDR’s New Deal, the flawed greatness often inherent in men of great achievements. The Last Bandage speaks of a cat named Cat, beautifully flawed in his eagerness to protect his lady mama. And the screened window that invites both to mingle their destiny.
I woke up with two welts on my right thigh each about the size of a nickel. My first concern was about what had munched on me for their breakfast: mosquito or spider. I decided against spider because Cat thinks spiders are little mobile treats, like chocolate candies are to me. But how could mosquitoes get into our tight little apartment guarded by thick tough screens on the three windows that opened to the outdoors? Then I took a closer look at the screens. And found small holes about the size of kitty claws. More than ample to open a doorway for skeeters.
I saw dollar bills floating up from the damage, then remembered the apartment complex was getting new windows new year. Perhaps the damage would be overlooked when the windows AND screens were replaced. In the meantime, how to keep the little vampires out.
My scotch tape dispenser was somewhere in Oregon. Probably on the desk of the smirking executive in charge of repossessing my trailer. Did I care? Not really. He or she had inherited the negative karma surrounding that worn out hunk of dilapidated metal.
So while I had been frequenting the Dollar Tree to replace many of the small objects one finds necessary in contemporary living, scotch tape was not listed under “replace immediately”. In fact tape wasn’t listed on the replace list at all because rubber bands and scotch tape were no longer allowed in my house.
Because I was determined to never become burdened by “stuff” again. Because stores like FedEx and USPS had free tape dispensers as long as the privilege was not abused. Because tape stickiness had a practice of acid migration onto whatever surface it bonded. Which destroyed said surface eventually. Like old photos taped in old black paper albums.
And because rubber bands frequently imitated live worms by wiggling, thus tempting cats, and sometimes dog, to eat said bands. Which then become entangled in intestines too often killing said beloved pets because symptoms went unnoticed. But I squirrel.
The screens glimmered in front of me, gaping holes in the daylight sky behind them. I imagined I could hear the skeeters buzzing away in excitement of fresh blood. I was out of duct tape. A small bit of carpet tape hid in the pantry but there wasn’t enough to cover all the holes. Besides, the double sided stickiness of carpet tape made for difficulty getting it off one’s fingers and onto the screen.
The next experiment was the inexpensive masking tape I used to tape off the paper before beginning my next watercolor creation. It was floozy paper: it went on easy but came off just as easy. My search for the perfect tape began. Then I remembered what I had in the medicine cabinet. Bandages.
As I was trimming off the bandaid tape to stick to the window, Cat was just as busy creating new holes every time birds flew past the windows, or spiders hung deliciously close to the outside of the window, temptations much to strong for one poor kitty to resist. Exasperated when he was making more holes than I could cover, I gave into my ginger temper and swatted his butt. No, I had never spanked his furry big boy pants before. I really expected him to go into shock, cry, look at me pitifully. He did none of that.
“Play?” He yelled, delighted. And swatted me with his paw swords. The point was well taken. Cats, especially partly wild Bengals, play with their sword claws and knife teeth. They were fighting machines disguised as cute furry bundles that purred. And of course in the end, there were no more bandages left in the apartment with which to dam the small rivulets forming on my spanking arm. Regardless of what you believe, kitties are strategists.
And in the end another trip to Dollar Tree was necessary to pick up a couple of boxes of bandages. Some for me. Some for the windows. The windows do not look too much like collateral damage at first glance because of the small acorn tree forest growing right outside my windows. The windows were closed in favor of A/C even though today’s temp was just right for fresh air. That was punishment enough for Cat, who sulked off to nap.
I thought about how he was just trying to protect his mama from the flying dinosaurs, vampires, arachnids outside the windows. I went in the bedroom, laid beside him on the bed, petted him to sleep. While he purred me into submission to second naps, like second breakfasties.
Have you hugged your fur pal today?