22.3.09

Noll on "The Life & Times of Cha Cha Bigs"


He was the patriarch of the pride. The first amongst us. His name was Rascal. To us, he was "Cha Cha Bigs."
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Never was there a cat with more patience and composure.

A kitten for a four year old, Cha Cha endured rides in her plastic shopping cart with patience and goodwill.

Years later, Cha Cha welcomed the new kitten, Squeaker: showed him the ropes, how to chill around Butch the spastic husky. It didn't matter that Keaks was all over him. Cha Cha was a patient teacher. Later, Cha Cha showed Keaks how to comfort Butch as use and old age fractured the constant.

Butch and some years passed. In the new country home, Cha Cha accepted the pound puppy. Like Butch, Clyde become Cha Cha's best friend. More relaxed than Butch. No patience required; except waiting a little longer for dinner and greetings and the sunny spot in the kitchen.
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Months later, the feral kitten was thrown into the mix. Luigi was Keak's polar opposite. Cha Cha watched Luigi sit in his chair, eat from his bowl. Cha Cha waited patiently for Luigi to be about his business. His was the patience of legend.
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Change is a constant. Cha Cha knew this.
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Years passed. One cold December, Tiggy and I burst onto the scene. Keaks made a ball out of us. Luigi was annoyed. Cha Cha endured. I must truthfully admit, I usurped the order and went to the head of succession. My move was brash. In my seventh month, Cha Cha acquiesced. But did I let it go? No! I tormented him for years. I got in his face. Jumped on his back. Made an absolute nuisance of myself.
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And what did he do? Nothing! Cha Cha patiently went about his day as if everything was constant though he knew otherwise. Cha Cha had a more serious matter to attend to. Tiggy joined him in comforting Clyde through his years of diabetes and blindness.
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In his twelfth year, Clyde sadly ebbed. A couple years passed, and it became his time.
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That day, My Own cradled Cha Cha in her arms as she did every day. Quietly, they receded. My Own came back alone, in tears. I never saw Cha Cha again.
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But I feel his presence, his constant patience. It is there in the garden next to the tree I love so dear. Every spring since he left, the first flowers of the garden, gold and purple orbs - the color of royalty - open up to his patient and constant likeness. Such was the life and times of Cha Cha Bigs.

1 comment:

corster said...

I miss my Cha Cha.

I know he enjoyed those rides in the cart. "He likes it!"

RIP, my Bigs!