How Kids and Kittens are like Bananas

The first adoptions of Mamasita’s litter

 

Top that, Mickey

I flew into Orlando yesterday on a work trip. As you might guess, there was a high tide of little kids on board rushing in to do that whole Disney thing with their families. I fly to Orlando often for work and, well, let’s just say that these flights are very loud. Very loud indeed. Everywhere, little ones wiggle around all atwitter, hopped up on Lucky Charms and Gogurt, jonesin’ to get their fix in the lair of the giant mouse. It approaches chaos. (Not that I mind, though. My Sudoku concentration is Zen-like.)

Yesterday, we descended through a sea of plump cumulus clouds that tossed us about as if caught in a giant pillow fight. Up and down the aisles, grown-ups straightened up in their seats and started clenching things – the armrests, their knees, their books – trying to seem calm. To the left we went, and people clenched. Then up, and people gasped. Then down, clench. Up, gasp.

While the grown-ups fretted and soured, the opposite came of the kids, who found the whole affair perfectly delightful. They fed on each other, laughing louder and louder with every jolt, the older ones even anticipating the next cloud through the window and sending out calls like, “Here comes another one!” as if this was the first ride of their Disney vacation. To the left we went, and the children laughed. Then up, and they went “Whoa!” Then down, laugh. Up, whoa. It was a positive feedback loop of glee building with every drop of the stomach.

Then, the darnedest thing happened. Those animated little kids started cracking up all the grown-ups. Worried faces relaxed to smiles, then chuckles. Clenched hands loosened. Among all the other airborne contagions on that plane, one of them now stood apart as the most contagious of all – silliness. Blissful silliness. And everybody was catching it. To the left we went, the children laughed, then the grown-ups smiled. Then up, the kids go “Whoa!” as the grown-ups chuckled and shook their heads. Then down, laugh, smile. Up, whoa, chuckle and headshake. All the way to the touch down, an event met with a hardy round of applause by young and old alike.

Bananas

They say that ripe bananas, if placed near, will accelerate the ripening of other fruits and vegetables. The ethylene gas emitted from the banana catalyzes the chemical transition of starch to sugar. You probably know this, but if not you can prove it to yourself by putting a couple ripe bananas in a paper bag with some unripe tomatoes and avocadoes. You’ll see what happens (and honor the late Mr. Wizard at the same time).

Yes, and just as a ripe banana can soften the tensest tomato and most austere avocado, so can a laughing child bring forth smiles and chuckles from even the most serious of grown-ups. Kittens are the same way. A kitten can ripen up any room. And kids and kittens together…well that’s a veritable banquet of ripeness waiting to be served (and I'm not talking about ripe smells, but I suppose that works, too).

Tune up the funny bone and strap on the silly hat, cause kids and kittens will bring forth The Greening. Can I get an “Amen”? Such was the case for the first two adoptions of Mamasita’s kittens…

Little Dirty Cleans Up

The minivan pulled up in my driveway. Immediately, the grown-ups inside exited, encircled the minivan, and commenced the famous “Dance of the un-doing of the child seats.” This particular dance featured the difficult encore known as the “Wake the child up in a strange place and carry them around while they shyly rub their eyes and hide their faces in your shoulder.”

I waited, somewhat nervous about my first kitten showing, not knowing which kitten, if any, would strike a chord this day. Tom, Sara, and their beautiful little daughters funneled into my garage. I introduced Mamasita and her four. And then, like avocados in a bag of bananas, we just plopped down and let it happen.

Within seconds, Little Dirty and Panda were bouncing around the feet of the little girls. My nieces had left some colorful styrofoam “water noodles” on their last visit, and I drafted the pink noodle for the girls to wiggle around to let the kittens take chase. Boy oh boy, did they ever! On this particular day, Little Dirty was in the zone – head darting, paws pouncing, mouth agape in feline friskiness, and springing up from the floor in white furry blurs. The girls giggled loudly in bubbles that seemed to bounce against the walls and fill the room. The noodle swung, the kitten pounced, and the bananas welled up in ethylene.

A few days later, my Little Dirty went home with his new family. They renamed him in fine fashion – Little Dirty was upgraded to “Dusty.” He had a new name, a new family, a new beginning. He even had a new cat brother, a 12-year-old veteran of the house named Trevor. Within a week I heard news that Dusty was eating well, darting in and out of pillows, sleeping on Sara’s head, basking in the play of the two daughters, and knocking the toy trains off the tracks. And even Trevor began to reluctantly tolerate him. You go, Dusty.

We miss him dearly in the garage. But still, in that one-window, concrete-floored room, memories of his antics live on as white furry blurs and bubbles of laughter.

Panda Sweetens the Pot

You may have noticed thus far in The Greening that the little girl kitten did not get a feature story. The Fading Tiger drafted a surrogate boob, Little Dirty played the entertainer, and the contemplative Aldo tamed a human. But Panda, she did not get a feature story.

I can only try to explain, and probably poorly at that, with an analogy. Imagine you sit alone under a dark night sky flowing with stars and a gentle breeze, and before your eyes a hundred shooting stars streak the heavens and take your breath away. The next day, you try to retell your sight. Can you do this? Can you distill such a thing into nouns and verbs and prepositions without somehow diluting its effect? Would it be too frustrating to even try?

Such was the effect of the Panda. This kitten, this exotic calico kitten, was sweetness incarnate. With the other kittens, she was rough and tumble (I have a digital video of her coming out of the blue to drop tackle Dirty and commence to giving him the good ol’ pummeling of heel kicks to his face). But with humans, she was different. She and Mamasita were always the first to greet an opening door, sometimes in full sprint. She’d train her eyes on you until she was either picked up or found a way to climb up the back of your leg while you changed the water. She’d go to sleep in your hands. She’d nibble your fingers. She’d stare with those big, round, green eyes never wavering, always longing for somebody’s warmth. If the Panda was to be adopted, I was very much hoping it would be by somebody I knew so that I could vicariously witness her life in images and stories.

It was with great surprise that I received the news from St. Louis . One of my best friends in all the world, Scott, called to say that he, his wife Courtney, his 4-year-old son Carson, and 2-year-old daughter Sophia were talking about a “new addition” to the family. I thought to myself, “Cool. A third kid. It couldn’t happen to a better family.” When he clarified that the new addition under negotiation was a kitten, and one of my garage kittens at that, I outright beamed from the inside out. When he further told me that Carson had designs on Panda, the pot was sweetened that much more.

Panda was delivered on the 5th of July to her new home in St. Louis . On the drive down, she nibbled and nestled, and during one stretch through a thunderstorm she sat in the back of the car chasing the rain drops on the window. The rest of the time, she stared at me.

Scott was throwing quite the fete night I arrived – friends and friends’ kids filling the house, a trampoline in the side yard and soccer in the back, grown-ups teasing each other on the deck, all culminating with a true feast of homemade Indian food. Panda, in a new place with an unfamiliar litter box, unfamiliar smells, and in the midst of about a dozen kids buzzing about, handled it like the sweet girl she is, untimid and often commanding the center of attention. In one classic moment, the baby Sophia took a pretty serious tumble down the stairs right across the room from where I was standing. She looked up at me with the “I’m about to explode in tears now” look. Yet before the first cry had escaped her mouth, I pointed to Panda and said, “Sophia, want to play with the kitty?” Sophia’s face lit up, the cry evaporated, and together we let the kitten take us back to the world of smiles.

That night Panda slept on my head and woke me up licking my forearm. It was her first day and night out of the garage. By mid-morning, she was climbing people’s legs under the breakfast table. And, by the way, in less than a full day my Panda had rightfully earned her new name with her new family – as if written in destiny, her new name is “Sweet Kitty.” Just right. You go, Sweet Kitty.

And Scott, thanks brother.

Dusty derails a toy train at his new home.

Dusty waves goodbye to the readers of The Greening. "Thanks," he says, "I'm home now."

Sweet Kitty and sweet Sophia.

Sweet Kitty makes herself at home on a kitchen chair.

Back to The Greening index.