Isabella and Cleo
by Sam
(Roswell, Ga.)
At one point growing up, we had two pairs of Siamese Kings and Queens. Ferdinand and Isabella were traditional Seal Points, and Caesar and Cleo were Blue Points.
Something was wrong, however, with Isabella’s reproductive system, so she could not have kittens. And while Cleo was fertile, she was somewhat of an invalid.
So, when Cleo had her kittens, while she nursed them at least, she didn’t clean them as much as mother cats normally do. Isabella decided it was her duty to fill in. She assisted Cleo in all respects (other than nursing) of nurturing Cleo’s kittens.
We had a big family, and my mother was a professor of Political Science, but my dad was also a professional, and he didn’t do housework. So, mom was always behind on the laundry. Often times, before she had a chance to separate the laundry, she’d just throw six kids’ worth of clean laundry on the dining room table and let us sort through it ourselves.
Well, we started noticing that everybody’s socks were disappearing. Slowly at first, then more and more socks vanished.
About a week or so after this mystery of the missing socks began, we were all sitting down to dinner (at the kitchen table, as usual. The “dining room” was for laundry or company! :))
I guess because I was the youngest, and therefore the shortest and closest to the floor from my chair, so I was the first to notice. Isabella walked into the kitchen from the dining room, with a sock in her mouth.
I got up from the table and followed her through the house. She went straight for the “living room”–you know, the room with mom’s inherited antique furniture that no one except adult company was ever allowed to sit in- and disappeared under one of the antique sofas.
I got down on the carpeted floor, and crawled under the sofa. Lo and behold, Isabella had built a nest/den, rather like a giant bird’s nest, out of various sizes and colors of socks.
It was the size of an eagle’s nest. And she had moved Cleo’s litter into it while Cleo stressed about it. She was still adding to the den when I discovered it.
My mom was tickled to no end, and just decided we could afford to buy more socks, leaving the “sock den” alone.
Sam
