My Wife’s Lovers

At the bottom of this blog is a painting Sotheby’s sold for $826,000. That’s a handsome sum for a cat painting. It was painted in 1891 and the title is “My Wife’s Lovers.” The subtitle was “all cats must go.” I know some of you on this blog are not cat lovers, so perhaps that is your sentiment. However, I am smitten by cats.

I have been caring for some outdoor cats for over 1 & 1/2 years.  I found them when they were kittens near Fort Greene. Some now have homes and all remain a bit wild. Little Bea, or Beatrice, is the fierce one. Her name is the key. She is both a guide and also the embodiment of love. She is Dante and Shakepeare shaped into one.
Jackson is the elusive one. She is named for Jackson Pollock the master of the drip painting. She is white and black throughout with a black streak on the top of her head. I thought Jackson was a male, but when the first litter of kittens arrived — all decked out in tuxedos and white spats — I knew I was wrong.  She has eluded traps, nets and all manner of tricks.  I will keep trying to catch her and she will keep running just out of reach. I’m sure some of you can relate to some person in your life who is always a bit out of reach.

Jasmine means “sweet flower” and was one of Jackson’s girls. She was caught and is now in the midst of domestic training at my  apartment with my older cat Tabitha. It is not a match made in heaven. With the fine art of taming a wild cat the principal issue is to be patient. To win over a wild cat is to woo the cat and slowly let her come to you. It is a bit like loving a person. The food becomes an enticement and a kind of trust that lures the cat closer to you, so you can bond and get to know one another. And there is always play and getting close to the kitten, so don’t look too large. Jasmine is now partially tamed, but there is still some wildness.

Dog people do not always understand cat people and vice versa. Raising these cats who were without a home while I was missing both of my parents and their home helped heal me. I was able to go to see them and their world each day and feed and water and take care of two litters of new kittens. I was also able to connect with neighbors who gave me both praise and scorn. One day a guy who was walking in the park with his two dogs asked me if I fed and cared for the cats. I said yes. He reached into his pocket and gave me $7.00.  In caring for the cats I was aligning myself with the caring and nurturing of new life. My parents’ completeness was being given new meaning in this circle of unending life.

My Wife’s Lovers by Carl Kahler