Baxter and Bitty could have stepped off the pages of the Bengal cat breed profile: sweet-natured, affectionate, playful, high energy, and exotically beautiful. Baxter was perennially outgoing, Bitty’s charm was masked by shyness around strangers, keeping her in the shadow of her spirited 14-pound brother. She followed him everywhere, including into trouble.
I entered the frame when the pair took up temporary residence in a midtown high-rise. Their manor house, built in the Philly exurbs of 1919 to suit the mink and manure set, was undergoing extensive renovations. Baxter and Bitty’s owners were law professors who preferred house cats to horses and all were glamping in a one-bedroom apartment until the worst was over.
As expected, the apartment was sparsely furnished though I was struck by its bareness. No books or research papers. No decorative pillows or table lamps. Tables and counters were bare, kitchen cupboards had child locks. The reasons were Baxter and Bitty. They had only known country life which offered room after room of comfy furniture and deep windowsills for sunbathing and bird watching, massive wood doors to limit their naughty impulses, and friendly house staff to clean up after them.
PERSEVERANCE PAYS
While the owners juggled the demands of law students and specialty contractors, Baxter was learning how to manipulate the lever handles on the apartment doors. The owners were willing to accept ransacked closets as a temporary inconvenience. However, when the siblings began taking unsupervised leave into the common hallway, feline mugshots were taped to the front door as a reminder to engage the deadbolt, and all door levers were replaced with knobs.
That only slowed them down. Two young, intelligent, determined cats needed only days to add door knob turning to their skill set.
Baxter and Bitty enjoyed clearing closet shelves, dumping blankets, towels, and sweaters on top of all the household items (table lamps, etc.) stashed there for safekeeping. During my visits we would spend a lot of time in closets. Happy for the company, the cats would horse around as I refolded and reshelved. Occasionally Baxter would catch me off guard, silently leaping onto an upper shelf to watch me while calculating every angle to 8 decimal places before dropping onto my back. Oof!
By restoring some sense of order I was resetting the game. Baxter and Bitty craved stimulation and their owners’ scent, finding both behind closet doors. We continued to reunite in the same messy spaces until the Bengals returned to their modernized country home.