Basil the Graceful (6). Cats are not supposed to be this…
By: Lm Botha
Tags: Animals, Cats, Pets, Life Lessons, Humour

Cats are not supposed to be this uncoordinated, some anecdotes about Basil.

Basil being feral — photo by author

We have discussed how Basil came to be with us and his development through his first year or so, here I’m going to share some of the more ridiculous and clumsy things he has done in his life. Some of which definitely shortened my life span. Ever since we adopted Basil, he has been the most uncoordinated cat I’ve ever come across. That said, there are moments when his grace and agility are breath-taking, most of his moments are of the heart-attack-inducing kind though.

When he was a kitten, we thought he would grow out of it, then we put it down to him being a gangly teenager. Optimists we may be but even we had to give up hoping he’d become graceful and nimble after a few years. At nine years of age, he is still horribly clumsy. There are no knick-knacks or ornaments in our house. We have some pot plants that Basil can’t knock over and the few pictures are rigidly fixed to the walls. It’s not as bleak as it sounds, dusting is a breeze! Fortunately, I like the minimalist aesthetic.

On one occasion, Basil was still a teenager, I was sitting on the veranda when he came tearing around the corner of the house seemingly being chased by an invisible Cerberus. He headed straight towards the veranda which was about 45 centimetres higher than the grass level. I looked on in horror as he miscalculated the jump, his front legs both audibly hit the edge of the veranda, his body went full scorpion, and he slid over the bricks on his nose. I’m honestly not exaggerating this for comedic effect, even I couldn’t believe it and I saw it happen. Before he had come to a complete stop, I had grabbed him up and looked for injuries, his poor little nose was scraped raw, otherwise, he was fine. For my efforts at looking for injuries, he wriggled off my lap and walked away, giving me a look that said it was all my fault. He didn’t even limp.

Basil settling in for a movie — photo by author

Another comical situation involved the swimming pool. I was on the veranda (again!) enjoying an early morning cup of coffee and watching the cats. Basil and Charles were sniffing around the swimming pool. Charles decided to drink out of the pool, the water level was fairly low, but Charles was a large cat, and he had no problem reaching the water and taking a drink. Basil, being the copy-cat that he is, decided that he had to drink out of the pool too. Not realising that he was too teeny to reach the water he leaned over the side of the pool, still not being able to reach the water he leaned further into the pool and placed his paws on the decorative tile finish inside the pool. SPLASH! Lots of splashing and thrashing was happening in the pool. Before I reached the end of the veranda Basil was already out of the pool and barrelling to me. Soaked to the skin and looking like a drowned rat he jumped into my arms and we went inside to dry him off.

You would think that Basil would have an aversion to water after that early traumatic experience, but you would be wrong. He loves going out in the rain and coming back wet enough to warrant a towel drying. He yells loudly as he comes in and I’ll grab a towel from the basket near the door (yes, I have a basket of towels by the door for the cat), scoop him up and vigorously towel dry him while telling how silly he is for getting wet, why does he do these things, and that he will be the death of me. Basil simply purrs loudly and gives me head butts. When he has had enough of being fussed over, he jumps off my lap and heads straight back out the door, while I implore him not to go get wet again. The cycle repeats a few times depending on his mood, then he settles himself on the bed for a well-deserved snooze. Everybody asks me why I don’t close him inside when it rains instead, while it does seem like the logical thing to do, the situation is both more complex and delicate than that.

Basil being towel dried — photo by author

The cats come and go through the sliding door leading onto the veranda, the door needs to be open, so we get some fresh air too. Basil is not the only cat and I don’t want to close the door until all the cats are inside because I think it would break their tiny little furry hearts if they wanted to come inside and they were locked out! (According to my mom I’ve had issues with closed doors since I was a kid. One of my fears is getting locked out of my house. Weird.) Let’s not forget that if I curb Basil from going out, he might decide that the transgression is egregious enough for him to dole out the worst punishment. Peeing on my bed. No thanks, I’ll rather keep drying him off instead.

It’s a Basil thing.