Two Cats - 1. The Story

Once there were two lovers: Grant, who was tall, with grey hair; and Russell, who was short, with reddish hair (what there was of it). Grant was head over heels in love with Russell and showed it in a variety of ways. He would bring Russell presents and tell him wonderfully entertaining stories. Russell liked that. He liked to have sex with Russell a lot. Russell could also get into that. And, last, he showed his love for Russell by doing the worst possible things to Russell that he could think of, to make sure that Russell would still love him no matter what. This puzzled Russell.

Grant simply adored animals, especially baby ones; and Russell liked animals, too, but with his asthma, he preferred not to get too close to them. Grant asked Russell if they could get a cat, and Russell reminded him that the terms of their lease forbade it, and that a cat would really drive his asthma crazy. Grant asked again, and again Russell advised, “No.” And the same question was repeated many times, with the same answer.

One day Russell came home and found Grant holding a large fluffy grey-haired male cat. “What is this?” Russell asked.

“This is LeGree,” Grant said. “Isn’t he terrific? The owner had to find a home for him, and he said LeGree liked me better than any stranger he had ever seen.”

“Well, I guess we have a cat, then,” Russell said.

Some time later Russell came home and found Grant holding a small short-haired reddish female cat. “What is this?” Russell asked.

“This is LaRousse,” Grant said. “LeGree was getting lonely during the day.”

“LaRousse,” Russell said. “She seems terrified of LeGree.”

“Oh, she’ll get over it,” Grant said.

It took quite a while, but LaRousse did get used to LeGree, sort of. At first, she hid from him in closets, or jumped on top of the refrigerator, or perched on the picture molding, which was an inch wide. But Russell coaxed her with soft words and Russian lullabies. The real ice-breaker, though, turned out to be food. LaRousse managed to stand right next to LeGree long enough to eat whole cans of Science Diet , though she usually scooted back to a hiding place as soon as she had finished.

LeGree, however, who had been neutered in late adolescence and had not realized it yet, was head over heels in love with LaRousse. And when LaRousse got to the point where she could tolerate napping with LeGree in their basket, LeGree would bathe her head with his tongue. LaRousse liked this. Then LeGree would lick harder. LaRousse could still get into this. Then a strange gleam would flash in LeGree’s eye, and he would bite LaRousse’s neck as hard as he could. Then there were a few furious seconds of cats screeching and fur flying and blurred forms bolting through the apartment; and LaRousse would be hiding in a closet, so well hidden that even Grant and Russell could not find her, and LeGree would be wandering around the apartment, calling forlornly to her.

In the evening they would all watch television, LeGree sprawling in Grant’s lap, and LaRousse sitting primly on Russell’s lap with her butt facing him, Russell coughing or sneezing a little.

Grant, in his occasional--well, daily--fits of insecurity, would ask Russell, “Do you still like me?” And Russell would answer, “Of course,” which was not really what Grant wanted to hear. And Grant would ask, “Would you ever abandon me?” And Russell would say, “You can’t just abandon someone you have a commitment to,” which was not really what Grant wanted to hear.

Russell’s asthma got worse, and he developed chronic psoriasis. Grant asked, “Are you all right?” and Russell said, “I’m fine.” Grant asked, “Is it the cats?” and Russell said, “I’ll just take another allergy pill,” which in Grant’s opinion did not answer the question.

One day Grant asked, “Should I get rid of the cats?”

Russell was clearly shocked. “You can’t just get rid of a pet like a used Bic pen. They have feelings. They’re attached to us.”

A few weeks later, Grant said, “Your asthma is getting really bad. I should get rid of the cats.”

Russell was indignant. “You can’t just give a pet to the Salvation Army like an old sweater that you’re tired of. They have feelings. They’re attached to us.”

One night Russell came home to find Grant holding nothing at all. “What is this?” he asked.

Grant said, “I got rid of the cats. Maybe now your asthma will be better.”

Russell became agitated and upset. “Got rid of them? Got RID of them? What did you do, take them out to the barn and shoot them?”

“Of course not. I found some people who wanted them.”

“What people?”

“Good people. I think they work for the University. Yeah, that was it. In the science department.”

Russe ll sat down heavily. “Why did you do this?”

Grant said, “I did it for you.”

Russell said, “LaRousse. Oh, my God, poor LaRousse.”

Grant said, “Well, you never actually said you wanted to keep her.”