What did Ailurophile inspire?
noun; meaning "a cat fancier,
a lover of cats.”
a lover of cats.”
Aunt Mildred was… eccentric. And even by that standard, something of an oddity.
Long removed from family functions, she had withdrawn into her own little word. A world of whiskers, and tin cans, and “don’t sit on the cushions dear, Mr. Tiddles won’t approve.”
But more than that, she was rich.
And if the past several months had taught me anything, it was that desperation will drive you to do the strangest things. Like contacting crazy aunts out of the blue, and arranging to have tea with them, because “It’s been ever so long since anyone came to visit us dearie, I’m sure the kitties would love to see your smiling face.”
And it was that crazed invitation, and the need for money that had brought me to the place where I now stood. Just outside the picket fence. Staring uneasily at the old Victorian.
“Andrew! Oh my, how you’ve grown! Why I still remember when you were no taller than a cat-tail! And oh how handsome! You certainly are Jonathan’s boy! Come dearie! Come in!”
“Thank you Aunt Mildred” I replied, allowing her to lead me by the hand.
It had been almost 15 years since I had set foot in the old house, but the effect of seeing it again in such a state, hit me immediately. There had once been floral wallpaper and patterned upholstery. The kind of manicured living spaces that harkened back to eras long forgotten. Now in it’s place was the world of an ailurophile.
No space went un-graced with cats in one form or another. Grotesque statues followed my every movement with hollow glass eyes. Once valuable paintings now found their figure’s faces decoupaged over with the heads of kittens. And every piece of furniture had been carefully mummified in layers of plastic, hermetically sealing it from the countless cats that perched.
“Shoo dearies! Make room for Andrew! That’s it lovey dears!” she said, shifting at least a dozen cats for me to sit down.
I lowered myself cautiously onto the sofa and my spot was almost instantly reclaimed by cats, now perched on my shoulders, and lap.
“Oh! Just look how they love you dearie! Why they could just eat you up! So precious! So purr-fect!”
Even her speech had grown cat-centric over the years. I doubted there was any part of Aunt Mildred’s life that didn’t revolve around cats.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any sugar, Andrew” she said, offering me a cat-shaped teacup. “Only cream.”
Obviously she was lacking tea as well, I noted, sipping what was a slightly beige cup of warm milk.
“Tell me, Aunt Mildred, are you really here all alone?”
“Oh, yes dear! We don’t get any visitors. And I just can’t bear to leave my little ones alone. Isn’t that right Ms. Whiskers?” She picked up the cat occupying her lap and nuzzled their noses together. “No, my kitties provide all I need. They protect me.”
“Well, that’s heartwarming.” I said, masking my unease and wondering how much sanity could possibly be left in this woman.
But there was more to it than that. She had confirmed what I had believed to be true. That all these years, she had slowly but surely withdrawn herself from the world. No one would notice if she went missing. No one would notice if the crazy cat-woman didn’t come outside. And so removed from the family, no one would notice if her money went missing either.
One of the cats, possibly Tiddles let out a hiss in my ear.
“Oh! We’re nearly out of tea.”
“Ah, allow me!” I said extricating myself from the mound of cats.
Several followed me, perhaps hoping for food. I did my best to ignore them, and also avoid tripping.
It would be simple enough, I thought. I’d just slip a bit of arsenic into her tea. No one would suspect a thing. She was after all, an old woman, and everyone knew she was out of her mind. It wasn’t hard to imagine that she could mistake the bottle of rat poison, for her rheumatism medication. And, I noted, pouring the poison into her tea-cup, the bottles were a nearly identical shade of green. The same green as the eyes of the cats all watching me from various perches throughout the kitchen.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. I hadn’t expected so many witnesses to my evil deed, but really, they were just cats. What could they possibly know.
“Here you are, Aunt Mildred.”
“Oh bless your heart d-“
The white cat in her lap batted the cup out of my hand, clawing my skin and emitting a hiss. I recoiled, holding my bleeding palm.
“Ms. Whiskers? What’s the matter my precious darling?”
“Mrrrroooooowwwwwwww” growled the cat, her ears not flattened back.
I sought to distance myself further as another cat dropped down from a high shelf onto Aunt Mildred’s shoulder, depositing something small and green in her lap.
“What is it Barth?” she asked.
“Ah, that-“ I tried stepping forward to take it from her hand, but was instantly halted by a swarm of cats which blocked my legs on all sides.
Aunt Mildred’s face became drawn into an almost sour expression as she tutted to herself, pulling out a pair of tiny spectacles. She read from the label.
“Dr. Skinner’s Rat –Be –Gone Solution. Guaranteed to rid you of unwanted guests.”
She paused for a moment, seeming to consider the words before removing her glasses and looking up at me once more.
“Andrew dear, what were you doing with a bottle of rat poison?”
The cats began to stand and slowly circle around me.
“I… I brought it for you.”
A low growl began rising.
“I thought you could use it.”
“mrooowwww”
“To get rid of any pests.”
The mewling grew louder.
“But dearie, I don’t need rat poison. Didn’t I make it clear to you?” she asked, her voice taking on a darkening tone as she stood up.
A cat swiped at the back of my leg and I bent in pain.
“Ahhh!”
“My kitties provide all I need.”
Another cat grabbed my hand and as I tried to beat it off, others pounced at my back, pulling me to the floor.
“They take care of me dearie.”
“Aunt Mildred! PLEASE!”
“Mrrroooowwwwww!”
“They protect me.”
But more than that, she was rich.
And if the past several months had taught me anything, it was that desperation will drive you to do the strangest things. Like contacting crazy aunts out of the blue, and arranging to have tea with them, because “It’s been ever so long since anyone came to visit us dearie, I’m sure the kitties would love to see your smiling face.”
And it was that crazed invitation, and the need for money that had brought me to the place where I now stood. Just outside the picket fence. Staring uneasily at the old Victorian.
“Andrew! Oh my, how you’ve grown! Why I still remember when you were no taller than a cat-tail! And oh how handsome! You certainly are Jonathan’s boy! Come dearie! Come in!”
“Thank you Aunt Mildred” I replied, allowing her to lead me by the hand.
It had been almost 15 years since I had set foot in the old house, but the effect of seeing it again in such a state, hit me immediately. There had once been floral wallpaper and patterned upholstery. The kind of manicured living spaces that harkened back to eras long forgotten. Now in it’s place was the world of an ailurophile.
No space went un-graced with cats in one form or another. Grotesque statues followed my every movement with hollow glass eyes. Once valuable paintings now found their figure’s faces decoupaged over with the heads of kittens. And every piece of furniture had been carefully mummified in layers of plastic, hermetically sealing it from the countless cats that perched.
“Shoo dearies! Make room for Andrew! That’s it lovey dears!” she said, shifting at least a dozen cats for me to sit down.
I lowered myself cautiously onto the sofa and my spot was almost instantly reclaimed by cats, now perched on my shoulders, and lap.
“Oh! Just look how they love you dearie! Why they could just eat you up! So precious! So purr-fect!”
Even her speech had grown cat-centric over the years. I doubted there was any part of Aunt Mildred’s life that didn’t revolve around cats.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any sugar, Andrew” she said, offering me a cat-shaped teacup. “Only cream.”
Obviously she was lacking tea as well, I noted, sipping what was a slightly beige cup of warm milk.
“Tell me, Aunt Mildred, are you really here all alone?”
“Oh, yes dear! We don’t get any visitors. And I just can’t bear to leave my little ones alone. Isn’t that right Ms. Whiskers?” She picked up the cat occupying her lap and nuzzled their noses together. “No, my kitties provide all I need. They protect me.”
“Well, that’s heartwarming.” I said, masking my unease and wondering how much sanity could possibly be left in this woman.
But there was more to it than that. She had confirmed what I had believed to be true. That all these years, she had slowly but surely withdrawn herself from the world. No one would notice if she went missing. No one would notice if the crazy cat-woman didn’t come outside. And so removed from the family, no one would notice if her money went missing either.
One of the cats, possibly Tiddles let out a hiss in my ear.
“Oh! We’re nearly out of tea.”
“Ah, allow me!” I said extricating myself from the mound of cats.
Several followed me, perhaps hoping for food. I did my best to ignore them, and also avoid tripping.
It would be simple enough, I thought. I’d just slip a bit of arsenic into her tea. No one would suspect a thing. She was after all, an old woman, and everyone knew she was out of her mind. It wasn’t hard to imagine that she could mistake the bottle of rat poison, for her rheumatism medication. And, I noted, pouring the poison into her tea-cup, the bottles were a nearly identical shade of green. The same green as the eyes of the cats all watching me from various perches throughout the kitchen.
I felt a shiver run down my spine. I hadn’t expected so many witnesses to my evil deed, but really, they were just cats. What could they possibly know.
“Here you are, Aunt Mildred.”
“Oh bless your heart d-“
The white cat in her lap batted the cup out of my hand, clawing my skin and emitting a hiss. I recoiled, holding my bleeding palm.
“Ms. Whiskers? What’s the matter my precious darling?”
“Mrrrroooooowwwwwwww” growled the cat, her ears not flattened back.
I sought to distance myself further as another cat dropped down from a high shelf onto Aunt Mildred’s shoulder, depositing something small and green in her lap.
“What is it Barth?” she asked.
“Ah, that-“ I tried stepping forward to take it from her hand, but was instantly halted by a swarm of cats which blocked my legs on all sides.
Aunt Mildred’s face became drawn into an almost sour expression as she tutted to herself, pulling out a pair of tiny spectacles. She read from the label.
“Dr. Skinner’s Rat –Be –Gone Solution. Guaranteed to rid you of unwanted guests.”
She paused for a moment, seeming to consider the words before removing her glasses and looking up at me once more.
“Andrew dear, what were you doing with a bottle of rat poison?”
The cats began to stand and slowly circle around me.
“I… I brought it for you.”
A low growl began rising.
“I thought you could use it.”
“mrooowwww”
“To get rid of any pests.”
The mewling grew louder.
“But dearie, I don’t need rat poison. Didn’t I make it clear to you?” she asked, her voice taking on a darkening tone as she stood up.
A cat swiped at the back of my leg and I bent in pain.
“Ahhh!”
“My kitties provide all I need.”
Another cat grabbed my hand and as I tried to beat it off, others pounced at my back, pulling me to the floor.
“They take care of me dearie.”
“Aunt Mildred! PLEASE!”
“Mrrroooowwwwww!”
“They protect me.”
Noël Coleman
We were in the middle of our fifth game of Smash, when Phillip threw his controller down and announced to the room, “You like cats too much.”
“The term is Aurilophile,” I said, picking more cat hair off of my sweater.
“Yeah, see, that right there. You even know the word.” Phillip had the tone of someone who had spent a long time thinking about this, and wasn’t about to let it go.
“I’m an English major.”
“So am I. I can write 20 pages on Shakespeare in an hour. I can’t remember the proper word for cat lady.”
“We have different strengths.”
“Uh. No. I have a normal relationship with cats.”
“He’s right, man. You could pull off some kind of ancient Egyptian house of worship in here.”
“Moss, dude. MOSS.”
“What?” He said, thankfully pausing before putting any more leaves into his mouth.
“That’s catnip.”
“Oh yeah? It tastes great, man.” Moss kept chewing on the leaves, “Maybe I’m a cat.”
“Don’t say that, Leo might adopt you.” Phillip continued, pointing to the calico curling itself around the floor lamp, “You didn’t even have that one last week.”
“Yes I did. That’s Tommy. I got him as a kitten.” Another calico came purring near my leg. “Or… maybe this is Tommy.”
“You can’t even tell them apart! Do you see yourself?”
“Only in mirrors.”
“Shut up. Shut up and downgrade on the whole cat situation. You are a 24 year old man, for God’s sake.”
\ \ \ \
They had a point. I mean, originally it had been one cat. The cat before Tommy, I think? Or, maybe it was two cats before Tommy?
Her name was Casey. Scratch that. His name was Casey. Well. Okay. The cat of an indeterminate gender whom we referred to as Casey was how it began.
Even Phillip had liked Casey. Everyone did. She - He - It - Casey was contagious.
Casey would lounge in the sun, with her white fur dyed whatever color the kool-aid on sale had been. Casey was perfect because she was Jenni’s.
Jenni.
Jenni was where it started.
She had been 16 when we met, bright blue eyes and soft smiles. She loved dancing and racing across busy streets. She could rival Phillip with a love of adventure. After we had moved in together, college had felt easier. It wasn’t like I had been losing her, my high school sweetheart, it was more of a new adventure for us.
When we’d met Moss our sophomore year at University, he’d been flirting with her. She had laughed and told him to come by that night. He’d walked right into our apartment without knocking. He’d been expecting a one night stand with a cute chick, and ended up playing video games and mooching off our pizza for the next 4 years.
She was… she’s still beautiful. She’s just beautiful somewhere else now.
\ \ \ \
“Dude. He’s thinking about Jenni again.” Moss’ voice snapped me out of my memory, and back to the small apartment filled with the smell of cats.
“No. Come on. This is even worse.” Philip looked like he was ready to kill me. “I’m done, man. This is stupid.”
Before I could reply, he’d slammed his way out the door.
I plastered a grin on my face, trying to lighten the air left hovering between me and Moss.“Overreaction, much?”
“Can you blame him, Leo? She left you in a post it note.”
“She didn’t leave me in the note.” It wasn’t much of an argument, but I didn’t have much on my side. I was the guy left sitting alone with my cats at the end of the day. God only knew where Jenni was.
“Okay, then where is she, dude? Because if she’s here, I need to cut back on the catnip.”
“She didn’t,” I didn’t know what she hadn’t done. It seemed easier to start over. “She… It was a song. She told me to listen to a song.”
“And what was the song about?”
“… I’d really rather not talk about this, Moss.”
“Too bad, man.” He threw the remaining catnip over his shoulder, directly onto a sleeping cat. It didn’t seem bothered by the wake-up. “It was about LEAVING and becoming a stupid CAT.”
“Hey, hey!” I jumped up, covering maybe-Tommy’s ears even though it was too late. “Don’t say that in front of them. What’s wrong with you?”
“I just ate a bag of catnip. What isn’t wrong with me?” Moss got up for the door, stopping half across the threshold. He pointed down towards the ground outside, and gave me a serious look. “Before I go, a topic for discussion in my absence. Phillip is out here pouting because he’s in love with you.”
I saw Phillip’s shoe hit Moss before the door closed.
Phillip was in love with me.
My best friend was in love with me.
And I was surrounded by like 17 cats, what the heck?
“Uhh, Phillip?”
There was a shuffling from outside the door. The idiot was probably trying to find his shoe, if Moss hadn’t stolen it. I heard him clear his throat.
“Yeah?”
“I… uh,” I stopped, staring at the door. I knew he was on the other side. I knew Moss wasn’t lying. I just didn’t know what to say. “I’m talking at a door.”
“Yeah, well I don’t really wanna look at your face right now. Deal with it.”
I tried not to laugh. “Stop laughing at me.” I obviously failed.
“Sorry. Just. I mean I thought you’d wanna see my face all the time. What with the whole being in love with it.”
Something that sounded like a mumbled swear drifted through the door. “Seriously, Leo?”
“I, uh. I might have too many cats.”
The door opened slowly. Phillip just stood there, staring at me like he’d seen a ghost. He looked… like an idiot.
“Where’s your shoe?”
“Moss took it.” He moved in slowly, slamming the door shut without looking away from my eyes. “He probably threw it out. Or traded it for more catnip.”
“He did really like that stuff.” I tried not to draw attention to the way Phillip was slowly moving towards me.
“He’s weird.” Phillip paused, looking thoughtful before moving again. “We’re all weird.”
He was right there, I could reach my hand out and touch him. I could do this. I could- “I’m still in love with Jenni.” From the look on his face, I could break his heart as easily as I could touch him.
“I know.” Although his voice sounded more like he hadn’t.
“But, uh, the cats. It’s… a band aid.” I was trying, I hoped he would see that.
He finally looked away, running his eyes across the cats lounging around the room. “You really have too many band aids…”
“I know. Will you help me find them new homes?”
I tried to find his eyes again, tried to make him see what I wasn’t saying. I should have known he’d never let me off that easy, instead focusing on the calico still wrapped around the lamp.
“Only if you keep pseudo-Tommy. Both of them.”
“Okay, yeah.”
“I miss her too, you know?” He looked back at me, and I saw why he’d been looking away. Tears wavering at the point just before falling.
I’d only seen Phillip cry once before. He’d broken his leg when we were seventeen. He’d fallen out of a tree trying to save a stray that Jenni had begged him to be the hero for. He’d been yelled at for climbing on school grounds, but nothing else mattered when Jenni asked for something.
“She, uh, she knew I-“
He faltered, motioning between us. For a moment, I thought he’d given up trying to explain, but he forced his way through. “She knew how I felt. From the beginning, but she didn’t care. She told me you were. I mean, I know you’re straight or whatever. So, I get it. I get why she didn’t care. She was… she was wild, man. She had us all wrapped around her finger, I didn’t even care that she hurt me like that. It didn’t matter, because you were happy and she was happy and –“
“And you’re rambling.” I interrupted.
“Leo, you’re straight.”
“I’m… whatever. I might be.” I didn’t want to think about labels. I wanted to think about Phillip. I wanted to think about new homes for my too many cats. I wanted… I finally wanted something again. It’d been too long, and I almost don’t know how to react. So I settled for telling him the truth.
“She’s gone, man. She’s not coming back. It’s time I make my own life.”
Philip smirked, “New life, huh? Like, you and me life?”
“And me, dudes.”
“Go away, Moss.” We shouted at the closed door.
“Hey. Can I have a cat?”
“Seriously, Moss. We’re having an emotional moment in here.”
“Okay, Yeah. Cool. Can you continue the moment after I get more catnip?"
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