A city cat turned country – that was Ariel. In 1995, she “moved” to Indiana from Washington, DC. She’d had a rocky relationship with her new brother, Cliff, and as a result, found herself with a plane ticket to the Midwest. She arrived in Indiana in the spring of 1995. One of my first memories of Ariel is sitting on the patio, studying for a college history exam, and holding onto her leash. Mother had told my brother Ariel could join our zoo, but on the express stipulation that she was an outside cat – and if she ran away, so be it. So, I wasn’t about to let her roam around outdoors until she had been properly trained on coming back home. Of course, after a few dishes of food and Pounce cat treats, she knew exactly where her new home was.
Ariel ruled the neighborhood shortly after her arrival. From terrorizing the dogs and stealing other cats’ food, she quickly became the Queen of the Development. She transformed from a small, timid kitty into a fat, bossy cat. It was always hard to imagine Ariel as the quiet, fearful cat that Eric had described. She let all of us – animals and humans – know exactly who laid down the law, SHE DID!
Ariel became quite a “huntress” in her new setting as well. From chipmunks to mice to baby bunnies, Ariel was always eager to stalk new prey. She was even more eager to show it off once she had caught it. In the last few years of her life, she stopped hunting – or so we thought until last fall. One evening, I can home from work to find a dead chipmunk on the doorstep. It was obviously the work of Ariel; she sat proudly next to the animal. I patted her on the head and told her she was an excellent huntress – all the while thinking that she must have been yawning when this poor creature wandered into her mouth. There was no other explanation to how this old girl had caught a young chippy. Regardless, she was proud!
Ariel loved to be brushed. In fact, if you just held the brush, she would be happy to walk back and forth underneath it, essentially brushing herself! In her younger days, she would also stand on her back legs for treats. It was a fun trick that earned her the nickname “Circus Cat”. Of course, when Ariel wasn’t getting brushed or eating, she was engaging in her other favorite pastime, sleeping. It was this lack of energy that got her dubbed “Goat Head”, my high school trigonometry teacher’s name for students who didn’t have the proper amount of “get up and go”. I’ll never forget when Ariel was napping on a rock bed in the summer sun. Mother and I were having a garage sale, and a little boy had come over to see our goodies. He stopped and looked at Ariel rather pensively before saying, “Hey! I think your cat’s dead.” Mom and I laughed because Ariel was fine, just fast asleep.
Ariel was a wonderful addition to our family for the past nine years. While we don’t know her history before Eric picked her out that fateful day at the animal shelter, we know that she had a rich and full life as a Hoosier.
Ariel, we love you and miss you.