Jezebel

When my daughter declared her independence and moved out, she found her own home several thousand miles away.

When I managed to secure a month's leave of absence from the busy office, I bought a return air ticket to visit my daughter. She picked me from the airport in the wee hours and during the car ride to the house, she apologised that she overlooked to tell me that she had a cat for a pet!

In one of my earlier posts, I mentioned that I dreaded cats. I am mortified of cats. It's too late to turn around and I prayed that the pet cat would not harass me.

Her name was Jezebel. She was a stray and behaved like a bona fide prima donna. She maintained her distance from me and for that I was eternally grateful. Jezebel did not once come into my room although the bedroom door was often ajar. In other words, she did not freak me out at all.

During the few short weeks, I learned to enjoy Jezebel's distant presence. She reigned supreme in the huge empty basement where a massive wing chair is placed at her disposal. In the mornings, I could hear her scratching the basement door to be let out.

We often let her out of the house during the day so that she could chase the neighbourhood squirrels. Sometimes at night, Jezebel would escape from the house and perform her favourite pastime of chasing squirrels. I know because I could see the backyard motion sensor lights coming on and off every now and then.

That's the only snapshot I have of Jezebel. She loved to jump onto the high stool to watch my daughter cook.