A Cat Named Chili Pepper

Koko (spelling due to the fact she was a knock out times two) was about 12 when she somehow managed to get pregnant, go full term with the puppies and give birth to them without anyone noticing until puppy cries were heard. The only difference I had noticed in her was that she suddenly had an affection for ditch water. She would have a bucket full of clean, fresh water, but when I let her out of the pen she would head straight for the canal beside the house and drink till she couldn't stand it anymore. I thought it was odd, but then again Koko always had her oddities. She gave birth to three gorgeous puppies. Two of them were big and healthy, but the little black runt was half their size.

The puppies were a few weeks old and all were doing well except the little black runt. You see she had to fight against two stumbling blocks. She was underweight to begin with and her mother had struggled with breast cancer twice already. Her teets just did not function properly. I had to bottle feed her and she still wouldn't grow, but that day she had enough energy to jump the high side of the box and I was ecstatic. The early morning and late night feedings to supplement her diet were finally paying off. Then... it all went wrong. She started throwing up and in minutes she was gone. Even the veterinarian couldn't explain it.

During the chaos, Koko was out of the pen and she kept messing with a piece of old tin. When I figured out what it was she was after, I pulled her away and studied the dead kittens. They were still warm, but something had gone wrong with them, as well. This truly was a sad day... or was it? I spotted movement amongst the little lifeless bodies. There was a tiny black kitten that was still moving! I gave the other kittens a proper burial and hoped that not too much of my scent was on the one kitten that was alive.

I checked on him, but his mother would not return. I knew he was getting hungry and as tiny as he was he would not make it if he did not drink milk soon. I decided to try to bottle feed him. He stayed in a small basket in the house that night. I tried all through the night to get him to feed, but he just could not get milk from his bottle. He was so tiny! By morning he was hysterical. He was so hungry, but alive. I took him out on the front porch for some fresh air for both of us. I knew who his mother was and she suddenly appeared. She moved toward him slowly at first and I held my breath. Then, she grabbed him up and they were gone. I was so happy! I assumed our paths would not cross again until he was ready to be weaned and his mother brought him to the food bowl on the porch... if he survived.

Time went by and I still would wonder about the little kitten. I would always look around when I was outside to see if I could find him, but I looked for him a little less every day. I would always see his mom. Her name was Wienie because she loved hot dogs. I began to think he did not make it. One day I had to go out to the shelter. I was looking on the work bench for something. I cannot remember what it was now, but there on some old hay (how it got up there I will never know) and a scrap of an old American flag was a tiny black kitten!

He was three times as big as the last morning I saw him and he was full of fight. When I would get close, he would hiss at me like he could cause some serious damage. He wanted to sound mean, but instead he sounded so cute. I didn't touch him, although I wanted to so badly. I wanted to make sure his mother would continue to care for him. She had made him such a good bed with that old flag. I will never forget him laying cuddled up on that flag and hissing at me. Who would have known that one day our paths would cross again.

Time past and I had been away for a week on a long business trip. I had gotten very sick during the trip and my house never looked more beautiful! I felt so horrible. After unpacking, I decided to walk outside and check on my cats. Wienie came first, as usual. She was begging from over an acre away. While talking to her, as I would, I asked her when she was going to bring me that baby. She just purred and loved all around my ankles. Never giving away any of her secrets.

Later that day, I walked out on the porch. All of a sudden, there was Wienie with a kitten. She dropped him at my feet and walked away. His eye was infected and he was covered in fleas. I washed him to get the fleas off and bathed his eye to get it to open. Mind you he didn't enjoy a bit of it! He was so tiny, yet he would hiss at me just like he did that day under the shelter. The bath felt good to him. You could tell that. He finally had relief from all those fleas, but he still had to show me who was boss. I did not know it then, but for many years he would prove to me that he was boss in my house.

I took the kitten to the vet the next day and he was given medication for his infected eye. He was very brave, but hissed at the vet just to show her that he would control the situation. She laughed at him, as well. You cannot help but laugh when something that fits in the palm of your hand stands up to you and tries to fight.

He had no name, though. What was I going to call this fiery little beast? Later that evening I was washing dishes. He was playing around on the kitchen floor that was covered in linoleum. His tiny paws would get cold, so he would sit on top of my feet and then go play again once they warmed up. I started picking on him about his chilly paws and when I would say "chilly" his ears would perk up. It was set. His name was Chilly and he liked it. He always knew his name. He was very intelligent even as a kitten.

Everyone loves to pick on him and somehow his name went from Chilly to Chili and then the Pepper was added. As an adult he became Chili Pepper, but you can call him Chili for short. It fits him. He is very spicy and everyone knows it. He will put anyone in their place when they need it and the funny thing is everyone enjoys it!

At least once a week, he jumps to the top of the door and stands there as majestic as any king would. He scans his kingdom, meows his orders and then jumps down to retire to his couch. If you enter his house, you must stick your finger through the crack at the hinge or be admonished for not playing properly. Tag has been decreed to be played at least once a week. You must realize that you cannot go to the bathroom without his companionship and if you are bathing you must be peered upon from behind the shower curtain. There will be a few nights a week that require late night romps through the house and howling will be done.

If you misbehave, that is a slap on the ankle. If you push it too far, well that is a slap and nip on the ankle. Anyone who reads a newspaper or magazine has to be taught that no reading is allowed. He promptly lays down on it. You will love him when he deems it necessary. He will come put his head under your hand and insist that you rub it, but if you try to rub him when he does not want you to then he will nip at your hand or give you a proper slap.

You must understand that his litter box is to be cleaned out at least once a day and that the litter must be changed on the 7th day if he lets you off easy. His preference is that it be done on a five day schedule. Meals are to be served twice a day at exactly the same time or he will have to run around the kitchen table repeatedly and then open various cabinet doors to punish you for your tardiness. If that does not work, he will then scratch all things that are off limits until his bowl is filled.

There is no going outside. It has been deemed unlawful. The threshold of the door is the outer limits of his kingdom and he will not pass any further. Trips to the vet will not be appreciated in any manner and all annoying things that can be done, such as cabinet doors being opened, will be done. He is litter box trained, but since he has been angered he will decide if it is punishable by pee stain. If it is punishable by pee stain, it will be done in a secretive manner so that you will not find it until it has soaked through.

My mother is known to have a weakness for his "pitiful kitten eyes" and this weakness will be used to his advantage. At every occasion that my parents are over during a meal, his pitiful eyes will be used against her. If she does not notice the pitiful eyes, then further cuteness will be played to pull at her heart strings. He will peak under her arm, nudging her gently and then giving her the pitiful eyes until she cracks. Bacon requirements are that a few small pieces are given from everyone's plate at breakfast and nobody gets hurt.

There are many more requirements that Chili has put upon his people (no touching while sleeping or you will be bitten). New decrees are less frequent now that everyone knows his laws. He has trained us very well.

Chat Noir
Steinlen,...
23.6 in. x 31.47 in.
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I can remember my father saying that all through my childhood. He did not want them to rub around his ankles. Cats were terrible as far as he was concerned.

I do not know what it is about that cat. He is moody and has never been much of a lap cat. Well... only when no one else is there to see his weakness for head rubbing. Somehow through his intelligence and witty ways, he has charmed even my dad. He has to rub him when he comes over and he mentions him in conversation with others all the time.

Chili has that effect on people. He may be a grumpy old kitty, but everyone loves him. I guess it is like the day that I saw him on that old flag and he hissed at me and I laughed. He tries to portray himself as powerful and strong, but he is an old teddy bear. I guess we get along because I am the same way. Sorta grumpy and standoffish to most, but I am really a big softy that loves a good game of tag.

Most people hear of him and his odd ways and think he is horrible, but once they meet him and spend some time with him everyone seems to fall in love with him. Even when he rubs around their ankles and then hisses at them. I can't figure that behavior out, yet. My grandmother hates cat, too. When he was a kitten, he would climb on the chair she would be sitting in just for fun and you could tell she hated it. Years have passed and when his allergies got bad last week even grandma called twice to check on him.

I hope Chili Pepper will be around for many more years, but I am afraid his allergies are going to get the better of him one day. He is so big and so healthy otherwise, but his breathing can be touch and go sometimes. Mister Smarty Pants figured out how to tell when his medicine was in his food and when it is not, so he just sorta leaves off the medicated meal. I spend a lot of my spare time trying to get one step ahead of my cat.

I never meant for him to live in the house with me. He was just going to stay until his eyes got better. Oh, by the way, he has the biggest most gorgeous eyes you have ever seen. Then he caught a sinus infection and his allergies started and well... years later he is still in the house. He has become a very close companion. He knows when I am upset. He does not leave my side while I cry. No, he does give me nudges of encouragement or anything sweet like that. He stares at me and does not take his eyes off me while I cry. I see it as him watching to make sure I make it through and telling me to "get over it girl!". He is my little rock of strength. He follows me everywhere. I talk to him all the time and he puts me in my place, as needed. I have always loved cats. I had another cat that stole my heart some years ago. Maybe I will tell his story one day. I never thought there would be another that would steal my heart, but somehow through Chili's huge personality he pulled my heart strings. He is my companion, a dear friend and will always be loved like no other cat as far as I am concerned.

This website is full of cat information! It is my go to site when I need or need to know something for kitty.
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Purina has a wealth of information on keeping your cat health and understanding their behavior

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