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Love Story
Letizia Mancino, March 24, 2012
“But that’s how cats are, Letizia!”
“Really? But Tigerli, isn’t quite normal, Betty!”
“Tell me the whole story.”
“Well Betty, I’ll tell you, but only you! This is how it began: I lay on the sofa and Tigerli suddenly sprang onto my leg and started to push the claws of his front paws in and out. He purred contentedly. That’s nice, I thought, he’s thinking about when he was a kitten. His mother has been gone for a long time and he thinks my leg is his source of milk! I read my newspaper and didn’t disturb him. But then he started pushing with the claws of his back paws. It became very uncomfortable. He thrashed about and moved his back up and down, his tail quivered and his eyes looked blank.”
Betty smirked!
“A real man! Go on Letizia!”
“Betty, promise me you won’t tell this story to anyone!
Tigerli, I am here, I said to him, look at me Baby, and I quickly moved my leg away.”
“How mean of you!”
“I had to leave! I met Renate outside in the street, the landlady of my studio, and I told her what had happened with the cat.”
“Is she a cat lover?”
“And how! Two years ago she introduced me to Tigerli!
“Such a sweet little cat”, she said to me then. “So well behaved, he has never brought a mouse into the house”.
“So why is Tigerli with you?”
“Toby, her daughter’s cat, drove Tigerli out of the house. Tigerli stood outside in the cold. “What shall I do?” asked Renate when the winter was getting really cold. What could be done? I said that perhaps Tigerli could live in my studio. Eugen, Renate’s husband, didn’t hesitate to build a cat door into my door. He even took a day off work to do it!”
“How generous of him. A real animal lover!”
“By no means an animal lover, Betty, only a husband at the end of his tether! When I met Renate in the street, she told me that Tigerli had also played amorous games with her leg.
“Amorous games! Not searching for mother’s milk?” I asked. Renate went on to tell me how the cat had always played these games when her husband was watching. But Eugen had lost his patience and kicked the cat out of their bed.”
Betty laughed! “All husbands are jealous! My Don also would not have tolerated a lover in bed! To say nothing of Bob, the chicken farm husband. He would certainly have shot the cat! Eugen by comparison is a nice man!”
Betty was very amused that I was so naïve! “And you, a woman from Rome! Have you no idea about feline eroticism? Tell me, how did Tigerli react to being thrown out of Paradise?”
“Naturally he was offended! Perhaps Tigerli is convinced that the men by the side of a woman are only eunuchs there to protect her!”
“And Renate?”
“She remained very relaxed, because she knew that the cuddly cat would continue to visit her on the sofa in her living room!”
“What an intrepid lover, Letizia! Tigerli seems to be very well acquainted with sofas!”
“Yes, perhaps he finds them more romantic than beds. It was clear that it wasn’t a premiere with me! Why does one allow cats to do almost everything!”
“Almost? I would say more than everything!”
“Don’t you find, Betty, that cats are more fascinating than men?”
“Yes but they are no good for begetting children! And how does the story continue?”
“Well, after my talk with Renate I realized that I wasn’t the first woman in Tigerli’s life. I now saw Tigerli in quite a different light!”
“Aren’t you happy to be the new love of his life?”
“Sure Betty. But the peaceful times on my sofa are a thing of the past! I tell you Betty, now it is “The Plague and I”!
“As bad as that?”
“Would you be enthusiastic about Tigerli’s erotic games if you were absorbed with an enthralling book?”
Betty thought about it. “Were your cats so passionate about you?”
“Tigerli is insatiable. I said to him recently, “Now stop this. You are castrated and I am not a genuine cat!”
“Castrated?”
“Yes”.
“The cat isn’t normal!”
“That’s what I have already told you!”
“Did he understand what you were telling him?”
“Naturally he didn’t understand that he had been castrated. He only understood: She not interested in me, the bookworm!”
“Poor Tigerli, when was he castrated?”
“Betty, none of us were guilty of that! He was found in that state in the wood! He was half dead. We thought it must have been dogs or other cats that were to blame. Now we are almost sure it must have been a jealous husband!”
“Anything is possible”, said Betty. “Did he really stop playing the “Erotica Felina” with you?”
“Yes, but now comes the astonishing part, Betty! He didn’t look around for another woman but he immediately found a substitute on the sofa”.
“What then?”
“A tiger cushion!”
“And how many times did the cushion have to put up with his games?”
“On average twice a day! Provided that I was lying on the sofa! Without me nothing happened. If I stood up he ended his games straight away!’
“Tigerli is really not normal!”
“That’s what I told you, Betty! In no way is he normal!”
“You should be happy! There are enough boring men in the world!”
“My problem is that I must make all the preparations for the love making with the cushion!”
“I don’t believe it!”
“But yes, Betty, it is my job to arrange the cushion on the sofa so that it is comfortable for his amorous games and I must be present!”
“Can’t you go away?”
“In no way! I have to lie down and pay attention! To put it better I have to take part. I have to support Tigerli with encouraging words. To say “Bravo” otherwise it goes on for ever!”
“I can imagine that’s very boring!”
“It is!”
“I think American cats are different! Their game is over quickly”
“That would be better. Even when I play beautiful classical music Tigerli doesn’t let it interrupt him!”
“Music doesn’t make him more peaceful?”
“Quite the opposite! He considers classical music cool. Verdi’s "Dies Irae” doesn’t take his attention but only increases his erotic feelings!”
“Sadist!”
“But his favourite is Handel’s “Solomon”!
“What a refined cat! When I think that my Bob only reacted to cocks crowing”
“I have decided to give the name “Solomon” to the Tigerli game!”
“A cat well versed in the scriptures!”
“He understands the word “Solomon” well. I ask him if he wants to play Solomon – there are certain indications – and then quickly I fetch the toy lion!”
“A toy lion? And the tiger cushion?”
“His demands have risen! Tigerli is very enthusiastic about the toy lion! He plays “Solomon” with the King of the Animals!”
“When you dream, dream big!”
“This love for another man is not normal, Betty, but the cat is very pleased with himself. “Solomon, I have surpassed you!” he thinks.”
“What does the lion say?”
“He can’t defend himself against this passion. But after a quarter of an hour of “Solomon” I try to protect the lion. I say: Tigerli, that’s enough!”
“And does that have any effect?”
“No! He always takes his time: He begins with cooing and purring. He climbs on the arm of the sofa and then on the toy lion. If the lion falls down from the chosen position I must always put it back in the right place. I encourage him with calls of “Bravo Solomon” and lie on the sofa until the game is over otherwise it has to start all over again. I have become as wise as Solomon! It is better to see it through than to start again! But there are all sorts of side effects”
“And what are these?”
"Dirty hair, Betty. Because I was deeply involved with my book it was only later that I discovered that the “sweet little cat” needed my hair to feel amorous.”
“So what do you do?”
“Nothing. I keep still. Tigerli makes me understand: Woman, you are my aphrodisiac. I leave your leg in peace but not your hair. Your hair smells so good after it is washed and it has a good but different smell beforehand.”
“Is there anything one wouldn’t do for one’s cat, Letizia?”
“I have taken some Eau de Cologne to the studio to suppress the smell of Tigerli’s salmon terrine. But this doesn’t work. Christoph recently asked my why my hair always smells of fish?”
“What do you do when you go away on holiday?”
“Tigerli consoles himself with Renate when I am away. When I came to visit you in Seattle last summer, I found a beautiful Russian girl to look after him.”
“And?”
“When I came back Tigerli was quite content!”
“And the Russian girl?”
“We didn’t talk about it!”
THE END