Black Cats! Adventures in Kittydom

As Told By: Kelly O’Neal

Mentors are everywhere. Many of them four-legged. My production company, Mean Mama Dog, is named after one very wise canine who treated me like one of her pups. She taught me important lessons, not the least of which is that no matter how often I say the wrong thing, or how much I screw up, or how many regrettable fashion choices I make, I am worthy of unconditional love. She taught me that holding a grudge is for suckers. And that cat poop is delicious.

I learned from my first cat that my loving someone doesn’t mean I get to control her. That’s a hard but valuable lesson for a control freak like myself. Cats also show us that wildness is a virtue, you are probably stronger than you seem, and making outright demands will get you the hard kibble/canned salmon combo that you desire—I mean deserve. Helpful lessons for an artist. I’ve not put all of these to the test, but cats are rarely wrong. Just ask one.

I am both a dog person and a cat person. I see no reason to choose.

Ada and Styx

Ada and Baby Uko

Thistle

Ada, Kitty Mommy

There is something especially mystical about cats. They seem to always have two paws here with us, and two paws on The Other Side. Poet Robin Spriggs writes of the domestic cat’s close relationship to the shape-shifting, otherworldly Yordhla of folklore. That accounts for all the folks who say they don’t care for cats. Those people are simply afraid of what’s in the shadows, or maybe more accurately, what’s in their shadow selves.

Nearly all of my feline (or feline-adjacent) companions have been sleek and black. All but one.

Thistle was an undersized powdery blue/grey tabby. She was half perfect and half terrible. When she wasn’t gazing into my eyes with squinty, purry love, she was peeing on everything in sight. She lived in my lap for 16 years and when she slipped out of her furry pajamas she left a huge hole in our hearts.  

Black Cat Number 1 was my first cat as an adult living on my own. A stray. We called him Renegade Kitty, though he was anything but. He was one hundred percent dependent, following me around like a dog. His love was intense. We can still feel it as we place the Yule ornament bearing his name on the tree every year. Sometimes with a lump in the throat.

Black Cat Number 2 was Minnalouche, a regal feral who let us fall completely in love with her, and when she wandered away without a goodbye, I made a tearful declaration: “No more loving wild things! It’s too hard! 

Black Cat Number 3 was the wild maniac who deposited her newborns, Black Cats 4 and 5, on our doorstep before disappearing. Styx and Prosper. One long-haired, one short, both black as night. They would perch at the front door and meow for their breakfast in Simon and Garfunkle-like harmony every day at 5 a.m. We were kitten smitten, instantly in love no matter how wild they were, or how hard we knew it might get.

Minnalouche

Styx and Prosper, “The Seduction”

Simon & Garfunkel

Uko and Auntie Styx

Night after wintery night, we sat shivering just inside the open door trying to seduce them into the house. Shaking kitty kibble, rubbing frozen thumb and forefinger together, pspspsps-ing into the cold. It took our perfect, maternal hound Ada to finally lure them inside. Ada was all heart, wisdom, and joy. Like everyone else, the kittens were drawn to her like magnets. She was black like they, and it was as if they knew she’d be a perfect replacement mommy for their errant parent, and they were correct. 

But Prosper hated being in-doors more than I hate watching baseball. She would let us cuddle her outside, but you’d have thought her flesh was on fire if she got trapped in the house with the door closed. She didn’t stay with us long. She must’ve known she'd break our hearts, so she made us one fierce little boy kitty before she vanished without a trace. Uko was Black Cat Number 6. 

When Styx’s belly began to grow and she filled with milk, we were certain she too had gotten herself knocked up before we could get her spayed. 

But she wasn’t pregnant. She just wanted so badly to be Uko’s mommy that she became his wet nurse. I had never heard of this phenomenon, but it’s not unheard of.To this day I remain in awe of that magical, milky manifestation of pure love. As soon as Styx could get close to her little nephew, she grabbed him and pulled him to her tummy, purring like a muffin as he nursed. 

Styx loved nothing better than nursing Uko, helping her sister teach him to fight (they would double team him in the yard), and chasing him around the bedroom when we were all supposed to be asleep, dammit. It was unsettling how rough their play was. Fangs and claws and hisses and yowls. He grew to be a confident and mighty feline. But he had his mommy’s wild heart. He didn’t stay long, either. Oh, how we cried.

Styx, World’s Greatest Auntie, is now 10 (or a thousand), and a wonderful little housemate. She shows her ever-growing devotion by curling her spine toward me in bed every night, the little spoon to my big. Arching her back, she reaches over her head to claw me to shreds in an Edward Scissorhands-like show of adoration that only a cat person –or the aforementioned Uko-- could appreciate. 

I’ve learned my lesson. My big love for her renders me powerless over her dangerous display of affection. We both purr off to sleep. 

About Kelly O’Neal

Kelly O’Neal is an actress, artist, and filmmaker based in Atlanta. The award-winning comedy feature she co-wrote, directed, and starred in GildaSue Rosenstern: The Motion Picture! (showcasing Ada) is now streaming on Amazon Prime. She collaborates with Droom Vox Theatre, producing a short film series featuring the channelings of Robin Spriggs, including The Yordhla, which can be found on Youtube.  Learn more about her film and TV work on IMDb. Check out her essays on creativity, Genius Uncaged, and sign up to receive her newsletter at kellyonealcreative.com.

MEOWTASTIC!

We at Lucky Pineapple Films love cats. We love them so much, we have our own cat themed store, The Cattiest Cat Shop. To celebrate our love of cats, we invited people to share their own cat stories. When we moved the website over to a new shop, we didn’t want to lose them. Voila! Here the amazing cat stories are forever preserved on the Lucky Pineapple Films website.