Having had five daughters, I’ve melted away all resistance to yet another kitten by those warm pleading brown eyes looking at me so hopefully. They plead with promises of cleaning the litter box themselves. You weaken. They hug you and tell you they’ll love you forever. You now own yet another kitten.
It was the mid-80’s. The movie Gremlins and the toys were popular. I wasn’t crazy about my children seeing this movie, but like the kitten, I gave in to their pleadings. Soon we had our own Gizmo. If you are one of the few people who never saw this movie, here is a clip for you to enjoy:
With all things Gremlins popular, we named our newest kitten Gizmo. This cat was a Gizmo for sure. He had ears too big for his small face. He could run fast, climb walls, and yet charm your heart. He was cute, energetic dynamo. The name Gizmo suited him well.
Golden. The rest of the cats we fed and tended to were outside cats. We buried many a stray cat at our pet cemetery on the hill. Nooks Hill Road was the natural predator for these cats.
Our house on Nooks Hill Road was an odd house that we made odder with our attempts to make a two-bedroom cape livable for three adults, two teenagers, one pre-adolescent, two children, one toddler and a baby. The attic had no dormer but we managed to sleep four children in it. Occasionally my mother would decide to sleep in the attic. The house was overflowing with people.
This was the first house we purchased. Décor was decided on the basis of discontinued wallpaper, discounted paint, and anything that we could get cheap. My husband, not a carpenter, mechanic or electrician valiantly used trial and error. I put up wallpaper and painted. I was not skilled in these tasks either. But soon we moved our small army into this house.
One of the most creative adaptations to the house was the bathroom. There was no master suite and bathroom in this house. The bathroom was far away from all sleeping spaces. It was more like an inside outhouse. The bathroom was the last stop before the small room where the oil tank and oil furnace which exited on the other side to the back of the house.
Once you turned the corner to the bathroom, like a bizarre scene from the Price Is Right, you had to decide which door to use. Door number one was a half bath. Door number two was a full bath. We had taken what was one bathroom and turned it into a bath and half. There was no noise barrier. If you flushed in the full bathroom, the person in the half couldn’t wash their hands because there was no pressure in your sink.
Gizmo was missing. For hours we searched for Gizmo. I feared the worse, the dreaded fate of Nooks Hill Road. As we took our turns in the bathrooms, we heard a scratching. A mouse? Or worse, a rat? Ears perked up. We heard it. Meow, Meow – just a faint sound but it was Gizmo. Gizmo had found a small hole by the pipe in the bathroom and went in it to explore.
Keyhole saw in hand, the hole was made bigger. With some coaxing, out came the terrified Gizmo. Gizmo was converted. It was a true conversion. The cat was never the same. His nature was changed. He was quiet and well behaved. No more racing through the house. No more climbing walls. And definitely no more trips inside the wall. I still smile when I think of Gizmo coming out of the wall.