Martini the Monk Cat

I recently met Al, a resident at the retirement village where my mother lives. Al is pleasant, if a little vague. I’m never quite certain he’s attending to the conversation at hand. He does seem focused when he tells me I’m pretty but at other times I’m not sure he is completely engaged. His vagueness isn’t so bad, really. The biggest problem with Al is that regardless of the clarity of his conversation, once he starts talking there doesn’t seem to be an off button. Recently, Al told me the story of his cat, Martini. He was entirely present in this conversation. I admit, I was equally as enthralled.

Al has a companion cat whom he loves. I haven’t actually seen Martini myself. Not that Al hasn’t invited me to his apartment to see Martini. He has. But, I have been warned by staff members that Al invites everyone to his room to see Martini and it doesn’t take long before he is also showing off his vibrating bed and inviting whomever is present; other residents, staff, visitors, to try out the bed with him. Somebody really ought to be monitoring the Viagra use in that place! Anyway, I have declined invitations to meet Martini personally but that hasn’t kept Al from telling me all about Martini’s interesting, if just a little suspect, life.

According to Al, Martini is a Himalayan. He is also the smartest cat alive. Apparently Martini has a keen sensibility regarding human nature and, upon meeting someone, will sit across the room and size up the individual. Before he engages in any interaction, Martini observes to see just what he is dealing with. If he likes you, he’ll allow you to pet him. If he doesn’t, he keeps his distance. Now, as a cat person, I’ve got to say, that just doesn’t sound all that unusual. Nor overly intelligent.

But, Martini also knows how to communicate what he needs and wants through some sort of telepathic mind meld or something. Al says that Martini never makes a sound. Never meows. Never chirps. Never trills. I live in a house with three cats and the idea of a silent cat is rather foreign to me. At least one of them is always chirping, hissing, growling, meowing or purring. They are a noisy bunch! But not Martini. He merely looks deeply into your eyes and communicates. Now, that type of limbic communication is fascinating in its own right but what I found even more interesting is why Martini never vocalizes.

Martini was raised in a monestary.

Well sure. Martini was raised by monks. I mean, who would he talk to?

After my mother and I heard Al’s story of Martini the Monk cat she thought about it for a moment and then asked me why I thought the monks had given Martini up to live with Al.

Personally, I thought the answer was pretty obvious. Martini must have been excommunicated because he broke his vow of silence. Overheard chirping at a bird, Martini was banished from the monastery and sent to be the companion of a slightly loopy, hormonally charged man with a walker and a vibrating bed.

Woe to the monk cat who dares to go astray…