Lulu Belle

Lulu Belle is the only real cat in the house. It’s quite possible that you’ve been to my house and have never seen her. She’s elusive that way. She graciously allows the rest of us to share her space, but it’s always on her terms. If she hasn’t screened your application, chances are that you won’t get within 5 feet of her.

Weighing in at just over 7 lbs., she’s the most diminutive of the gang. As such, she treats the house like it’s a hostile territory. For example, if she wants to go outside, you have to open the door and get out of her way. Then, she’ll scan the surrounding area to make sure there are no predators lurking about before running at warp speed through the door. It’s important during this time that you don’t make any sudden movements in her direction or she’ll abort her flight and you’ll have to get up 20 minutes later to open the door again after she’s satisfied that it was a false alarm.

The amazing thing about Lulu Belle is that she’s a completely different cat when all of the other animals are away. This only happens during meal times. The dogs eat in the office and Payton has to eat on the porch because he’s a gluttonous fatso who would scarf down both his food and hers without batting an eyelash. So, he eats outside and then stares longingly through the window while Lulu meanders her way through her meal. I think she does it to torment him. She’ll take a couple of bites and then wander away. Maybe get some water, lick her paws, or come and sit on my lap before eventually strolling over to resume her meal. Yup, she’s a stinker all right.

Anyway, back to Lulu Belle being a different cat. You see, when she’s all by herself in the house and there are no predators lurking in the shadows, she becomes the most affectionate cat you can possibly imagine. She’ll sprawl on your lap and roll around. She’ll follow you around the kitchen and rub against your legs. I sometimes wonder if she wouldn’t be happier as an only cat somewhere else, but then I remember that being alone only has value because she’s accustomed to being crowded.

It’s kind of the whole “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone” thing. For example, I recall before having a child that I was once bored. HA! I was bored because I didn’t have anything to do. I had all of the free time in the world and not a single obligation. Woe was me. That single recollection is probably the most laughable thing in my life. I guess that it’s possible that I’ll be bored again one day, but I doubt it because I now know the value of having a single hour completely to myself with absolutely nothing to do. In other words, I think that Lulu Belle and I can enjoy those brief moments of freedom because they’re sandwiched between chaos and mayhem. Secretly though, we wouldn’t change it for the world.