Imp. Little, tiny baby Imp. The cutest little black and white kitten. My neighbor and friend across the street was in love with him. There was no denying it...he was a tiny ball of adorableness.
I was not so enamored of his personality. For an itty bitty kitty, he had a huge presence. First one to the food tray, everybody watch out!!! I walked out one evening to feed what was then a rather large pile of cats (8 to 10) and I was greeted with hopeful little faces and one in particular loud, ear piercing wail. Like Pavorotti in the aria of Il Pagliacco...it reverberated, echoed and expanded throughout the piazzetta ad alta voce. "Mamma mia!!!"...I looked up and my neighbor was on her balcony laughing. The little black and white, urging me to hurry. He wanted the food, he wanted it first, he wanted it!!!! That's when he started climbing my leg. !!!!!
Ok, he likely weighed less than a pound, but I could feel the little pricks in my skin as he ascended. He was small enough that I could grab and remove him with one hand so I could then make my way to my destination and deposit the food trays.
THAT is why I called him "Demon."
Five or six months later this little "demon" came to our courtyard to die. He had not grown like his litter mates, he had a terrible cough and he had stopped eating.
I brought him in and with TLC, good nutrition and medications, he lived and eventually thrived. He caught up with his siblings in growth.
Now I have to tell you that when my dog, Harry, was alive, I cooked for him. As his condition got worse, the only food he would accept was fresh cooked chicken. Cooking chicken became a regular habit, with he clown brigade at the ready for their share of the bounty. Only the boys. The girls are not at all interested. "Get that away from me! I'm not eating that!" I could offer it on a silver platter and they would look at me with disgust.
It's been a while since I cooked any...we rarely eat meat...but I decided it was going to be "fajita" night, so there I was, cooking chicken post-Harry. The clowns were all sleeping but eventually, one by one, they made their way to the kitchen. Scruff first, then Lupo, Percy (the most vocal... ma maoh? ma maoh?), Imp and Calzini.
They were cutlets and I had to transfer them to a cutting board so I could slice them into strips for fajitas. As I was doing so, I suddenly felt a searing, acute pain.....Imp, now a healthy, sturdy, stocky 10 pound boy, had leapt onto my side.....did he climb my legs, like the "old days" or did he leap directly to about hip height (I am short)??? I can't say for sure, it was sudden and extremely painful. I haven't checked yet to see what damage there was, or if there was bleeding, although I am betting there was. While my brain thought "What the bloody hell?" the words did not translate to tongue in the heat of the moment, so I let out a "Peanuts" style "AAARRRGGGGGHHH!"
I caught a fleeting glimpse of black and white extricating itself from my side, and, much like depictions of the "the Big Bang" I also fleetingly saw small, furry bodies, legs and tails exiting at warp speed in all directions.
Little by little, one by one, the chicken craving clowns returned. And I was able to give them all two rounds of what is now a rare and exotic treat.
Lupo was so grateful he spent the next 10 minutes "kneading" me and sucking my index finger. Meanwhile, Scruff did body gyrations on the floor, with occasional furtive side glances, in an effort to get me to pet him. Imp had enough sense to stay away for a while.
He approached me about an hour later. "You forgives me, Mamma?" Well, just look at that face....what choice do I have?
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