There’s never been a cat so brave,
As to sit in a living room chair.
He acts like he owns this place,
Which he did in yesteryear.
Then the dogs moved in to his house
And Mistofelles had to move on.
Now he’s back to reclaim his digs
And he hopes that he can call this his home!
“Oh, well I never, was there ever
A cat so clever as magical
This cat, Dreyfus, reminds me of the Magical Mr. Mistoffeless from the Broadway show Cats. He’s sassy and fearless, lovable and independent. He came to live with my mother on September 10, 2005, the one year anniversary of my father’s death. He was a stray kitten who showed up on my mother’s door step. He earned the name Dreyfus because it was my father’s middle name.
When Brian and I moved in over 4 years ago, Dreyfus had to move out and into my mother’s in-law apartment. The transition seemed easy for him because he was so connected to her. He learned where his new front door was rather quickly.
Since my mother moved out to the nursing facility over 3 weeks ago, he figured out right away that he was alone and insisted on being with us. Little by little, he has forged his existence with us and our two dogs in the house that was originally his. Over the last four years, our dogs have only seen him prowling around outside and have chased him many times from inside the fence, where Dreyfus learned that they could never catch him.
So I give Dreyfus an enormous amount of credit for fearlessly coming into our house, sleeping with us, and prowling around inside despite the presence of the dogs. The dogs still go in to prey drive if Dreyfus moves too fast, but he never gives up. I think his desire to be with people after the 12 years of love and attention he received from my mother is what motivates and sustains him, even if he has to put up with monsters chasing him and barking at him at times.
Brian and I went out for dinner tonight, and when we got home, we found Dreyfus in the living room with the dogs…Dreyfus was on his own chair…but in one piece. Progress, and eventually love all around, I hope.
Ladies and gentlemen
I give you the magical,
PS: I found a letter my mother wrote to my father after he died. She mentioned how much she missed him, etc., and at the end, she thanked him for sending Dreyfus to her. How could we not take him in and love him, if just in her honor, knowing how much the cat meant to her?