Fenile dementia

When referring to her cat Spencer’s ability to jump rapidly from one narcissistic desire to the next, forgetting each successive thing as if it never existed, my friend Diana used to call it “10-second Cat Memory.” I am here to testify that this condition does indeed appear to be hard-wired into feline DNA.

Take Baxter, for instance. Baxter is a regular fixture at our back doorstep every morning and every evening, waiting to be fed, which we do without fail. But poor Baxter, once he’s eaten a few mouthfuls, appears to have trouble remembering it.

Within moments of the morning’s first few chews, Baxter will look up – “Hey! I’m at the back door!” – sit down about an inch from his food and start meowing. Kevin or I will come outside again and rattle our finger around in the dry food. Baxter, hearing a noise, will look down – “Hey! Food!” – and start (or resume) eating. Until he gets distracted by something, say, the sound of chewing, and stops. Then he’ll look up- “Hey! The back door!” – and meow again. And so on.

This routine could go on all day, but I’ve never let it for fear of Baxter’s stomach exploding. “Hi, Mr. & Mrs. Nextdoor Neighbor, I’m really sorry but we blew up your cat.” No, I’ve been making up ways to distract Baxter from the idea of food, such as petting him until he runs away (which takes about 2 seconds).

Kevin’s last words to me this morning before work were, “Your retarded cat is out here again.”

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