Miracle Kitty Part 3

Merlin (Left) and Misty (in the bed)

If Merlin had the brains, Misty had the brawn. Fully grown, but still young, Misty was sitting on the floor of the dining room. Eight feet above a fly bounced against the ceiling. Misty’s head swiveled back and forth as she tracked this annoying intruder through its random flight. Suddenly, from her seated position, Misty leaped up and grabbed the fly as it bounced along the ceiling. Back on the floor, and with a very satisfied expression on her face, Misty tongued the fly to her teeth. Crunch! The fly met its swift demise.
 
As I said, Misty was a great athlete. If there had been a Kitty Olympics Misty would easily have taken the Gold.
 
Kittens grow quickly. Soon it was time for them to be introduced to the great outdoors, under supervision, of course. Near the house Sarah and I supervised. Later, as the cats became accustomed to the outside world, Sunny took over their training, leading them into the wilderness, teaching them how to survive the predatory hazards that abound there.
 
As expected, the kittens made mistakes. One day I was uncovering the swimming pool when Merlin hopped onto the free remnant of the cover and started strutting around, amused by its oscillations beneath his feet. I tried to warn him off that dangerous place, but Merlin ignored me and walked ever closer to the cover’s drooping edge. Suddenly, he started sliding. Frantic, he tried clawing into the material, but the fabric resisted and he slid, backwards, right into the deep water.
 
I was ready to jump in, clothes and all, to rescue the drowning cat. Except, this cat was not drowning. Not a bit! Merlin looked at me with an expression of pure joy, and started paddling around the pool as if he had been born to it. Now, I had long been aware of a Bengal’s affinity for water. This breed loves to play in the tub with a couple of inches of water to splash around in. But swimming in a pool was not even rumored. Yet, there Merlin was, happily swimming around without the slightest sign of distress. After a while he found the steps, climbed out of the pool, shook off sprays of water and came trotting up to soak me, as well.
 
Though Merlin never showed fear of the water, Misty, by way of contrast, kept her distance from the pool. Merlin often quite casually walked along the very edge of the pool, never concerned about falling in. Once in a while, when he was thirsty, he would lean far down and take a drink, much as do the larger wild animals around here. Of course, as I had discovered during a close examination of his paws, Merlin had webbed feet. Maybe an ancestor of Merlin and Misty had acquired genes from an Asian Fishing Cat — a wild cat that dives deep in lakes and rivers to catch the fish that it feeds upon. Such cross breeding would explain the very large size of our kittens’ dad, as well as Merlin’s webbed feet.
 
Merlin was remarkable in another way. He did not meow, like most cats. His voice was a wonderful musical instrument. It had the resonances of a bassoon’s upper register. His greeting was a fragment of a symphony. Charming! To this day I still hear Merlin’s voice when a symphony orchestra is playing.
 
For the fast-growing kittens the wilderness proved to be fun. The wilderness was also a happy hunting ground, part of the fun, no doubt.
 
Their greatest delight was chasing squirrels. Now, squirrels love trees. They feel nice and safe high up within the protective arboreal thicket. Oddly enough, so, too, do Bengals. Perhaps this is the legacy of another of their wild ancestors, the Leopard cats who hunt in the trees of Asia. In any case, Merlin and Misty had good sport merrily chasing the squirrels right into their lairs deep among the branches. “Okay,” a squirrel would respond, “see how you like this move.” Whereupon the squirrel would dash right out to the bendy, whippy end of the limb and leap to another, many feet away. Misty, in the lead with Merlin close behind, would chase after the squirrel, but not quite so far out on the branch since Misty was heavier than the squirrel. Much to the squirrel’s astonishment, and evident dismay, Misty, too, would make the long leap to the other branch, Merlin leaping after her. Don’t get me wrong, this was pure play for the fast-growing kittens — nothing malicious intended. It took some time for the squirrels to recognize this and relax — somewhat. Still, the squirrels never let Misty and Merlin get too close.
 
The serious hunting was done on the ground. At the time the neighborhood was suffering from major infestations of gophers and their predators, rattlesnakes. Misty and Merlin took care of the problem. First they went after the gophers. With their primary food supply gone most of the rattlers subsequently went missing. The few, hunger weakened, vipers that were left were easily dispatched by these lightening quick cats.
 
Hunting gophers required precise coordination. First, the kittens used their keen hearing to locate the two openings to each gopher den. While Merlin attacked the entrance with furious digging Misty waited patiently at the exit to catch and dispatch the panicked gophers as they fled from the security of their nests. The lawns in the neighborhood were soon blessedly free from their myriad gopher holes.
 
There was something uncanny about the way these two worked together. On occasion I would see them walking side by side, in perfect step, their ears swiveling in unison, their heads swinging back and forth as one, their tails switching side to side, together. The two looked for all the world like a single organism with eight legs. Sarah maintained that, in that state, they really were one for they were communicating telepathically.
 
Sarah’s theory was that these higher level animals communicate by exchanging pictures rather than words. Sarah apparently could do some of this herself for I often watched her easily taming wild animals. She said she simply told them that she was one of them. They evidently believed her. There were incidents from her past which made her theory at least somewhat plausible: One summer she worked as a Forest Ranger watching for fires from the top of a mountain. Living near the lookout tower was a bear. This momma bear, together with her cub, would, every week, walk close by Sarah’s side as she made the long trek down to the base camp to pick up supplies. Sarah’s affinity for wild animals attracted the attention of Ella, the Shaman of the Nez Perce Indian tribe. Ella trained Sarah to be a tribal shaman and then adopted her. That was how Sarah became a member of the tribe. Having learned her lessons well, Sarah said that Ella knew far more about wild animals and how they communicate than any academic biologist.
 
Whether Merlin and Misty’s communication was telepathic or by some other means, it was fascinating to watch them at work, or at play, always strangely synchronized.

Please do visit again to see what happened next with Old Merlin (our First Merlin Cat).

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Miracle Kitty Part 1  │   Miracle Kitty Part 2