ODE TO MUFFIN

by Helen Lewison
(San Francisco, Ca.)

MUFFIN REVISITED

Long ago and far away, I had a cat called Muffin. This was not a good name for her. She would walk down my long driveway and stand guard in the evening. If a dog, any dog came into our yard, this so called ”Muffin” would jump on their back with her claws and ride them out of the yard. I was alerted to this early on, having heard yowls in the middle of the night. Going to the front door and looking into my yard, I was witness to this incredible sight. She was a smallish cat with a misshapen back, a little like a miniature Hunchback of Notre Dame. An indoor/outdoor cat but she certainly preferred the outdoors. Once I heard strange squeals and a group of us went into the yard and found Muffin holding a bat in her mouth. How she jumped into space and captured this creature is beyond me but the bat was carefully removed and of course, this cat went on to other adventures.

On a cold winter night when I was alone I heard a loud scratching noise coming from my attic fan in the ceiling. I turned on the switch to open the louvers and out flew the largest green grasshopper I’ve ever seen; I wasn’t sure it was a grasshopper. Perhaps it was strange alien bug that had traveled through space and somehow become trapped in my attic. I was terrified and ran out of the house, watching this monster darting about the room. I ran out of the house in a panic. It was freezing as I looked through the window at the creature that should have been in a science fiction movie. Muffin came up to me, probably wondering what kind of idiot goes out in this weather without a coat. I picked her up and said “I’ve got an important job for you. Go in the house and do what you will with that green thing that’s flying around”. I opened the door gingerly and shoved her in. As I looked in, I saw Muffin’s face with a puzzled expression and then she heard the sounds of the intruder. She dashed madly on top of the couch, over and under the furniture, out of the room and back into view. No more than ten minutes had passed and I saw Muffin sitting calmly on the floor washing her face. Obviously the deed was done and I was safe. I went in and all was still. I looked around and saw no evidence of a battle or the remnants of my enemy.

This was a super cat. She had such spirit and yet was one of the most loving cats I’ve ever known. I still remember her jumping on my bed in the morning as I hurriedly covered my face with a sheet. She loved to rub against my face and since I wanted to stay in bed, I pretended to be asleep. This did not deter her; she tried very gently to pull the sheet back from my face and since this usually failed, she would wander down to the foot of the bed and sleep until I got up.
What a great cat, what courage, what intelligence. If any cat deserves a great name, it would have been her. To quote Shakespeare from his play Romeo and Juliet “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”. So it goes, that cat I called Muffin by any other name would have been as special.