Apart from the three feline housemates whom we feed, entertain, and clean up after, we have three ampon cats who live outside and show up on our doorstep at mealtimes.
L-R: Janko, Pippin and Merry
First there was Janko (front), a fierce, mostly white cat whom we named after Tipsarevic before we figured out that she was female. For about eight years Janko was a regular visitor—too feral to be petted, and given to swatting the food container if the human was a little slow with the service. However, she also left tokens of friendship and gratitude on our doormat—mice and cockroaches she had hunted. One time she killed a rat that was almost as big as she was and dragged it up the stairs to our door. We smiled, clapped, and praised her hunting prowess. When she left we asked the janitor to take the carcass away.
If a cat brings you offerings of dead animals, be sure to look pleased and say thank you. Otherwise they will think you want larger corpses.
About a year ago Janko brought us her kittens, a boy and a girl whom we named Pippin and Merry. We’ve noticed that male cats have a sweeter disposition than female cats. Pippin will twirl around our ankles, but Merry hisses when we get too near. Like her mother, she swats the food dish when the human is slow. We figure male cats are affectionate and sociable because their goal is to knock up as many of the female cats as possible. The female cats are ferocious and cranky because they have to raise the kittens.
L-R: Pippin, Legolas and Merry
Janko stopped visiting us some months ago. We miss her, but we know she had a full life and lived exactly the way she liked. Merry and Pippin show up two or three times a day. Some weeks ago they brought a friend—a white cat whom we have named Legolas. We’ve learned to watch out when we open the door because Legolas runs into the house. For some reason our housemates don’t seem to mind—they just look at him with expressions of “Oh, a cat.” A few nights ago he ran in and snuggled up against Saffy, who was so surprised she forgot to smack him. After we had picked him up and put him outside, Saffy still looked stunned.
Matthias Eomer Octavian, Mat
It occurred to us that our outdoor ampon might be descendants of our tomcat Mat, who lived outdoors for two and a half years and presumably had relations with many females. We said, “Mat, are these your children?”
“Let me see,” he replied, and looked out the door. “Naah, they’re too young. My youngest spawn would be 8 years old. I haven’t banged any chicks since 2005.”
“Banged chicks? Obviously you have not been out of the house since the early oughts.”
“Fo shizzle,” said our retired Casanova, settling on his cushion to watch The Americans. “But the ampon could be my great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren.”