googles, a yellow rubber apron, and green galoshes. Larry hoped she was cleaning litter boxes and didn’t dress this way on a regular basis, but he was more fixated by the wooden box she was carrying.
“Every cat has the primordial history of their big cat ancestors in their veins.”
She placed the box on the table.
“Like the Gypsy blood that flows through mine.”
The woman began scrutinizing her visitors.
“And whatever flows through yours.”
Gwen and Larry both suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact that they were dripping rain water on the woman’s fancy carpeted floor.
“New York makes its own gravy when it rains,” was the only thing Gwen could think to say by way of an apology.
It was an awkward moment, but after what seemed like an eternity the woman smiled at Gwen. With that she grasped the bookshelf closest to her. It opened easily to reveal a hidden storage room.
“Domestic cats are the progeny of steely hunters, cunning stalkers, and cold blooded killers,” she continued as she stepped into the room. “They have the exact same set of tools to kill, and to them, size is no matter.”
Gwen and Larry could hear jangling keys and a door open and close.
“Even a small cat with all its claws can attach itself with great force anywhere upon a body.”
She had discarded the googles and rubber gloves and returned with two towels.
“Those sixteen little daggers will cut through cloth and flesh. The pain that comes with that kind of attack will bring a person to their knees. As the prey of big cats we instinctually feel that and so we fear.”
“We could always get it declawed,” Larry offered and wished he could take back just as quickly when the old woman responded with a cold as death stare.
“I am Mariya Ouspenskaya and this is my pet shop.”
She tossed Larry a towel.
“It is also my home.”
Her glare remained fixed on him.
“Do not speak of such things in my home.”
“I apologize.”
“You may call me Madame Ouspenskaya.”
Before Larry could speak his name the old woman dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
“They tried to take it from me. My home. I fought them. Tooth and nail. For many, many years. I won. They had to build their damn colossus around me.”
She approached Gwen and let the folded towel fall loose in her hands.
“You may call me Mariya.”
The old woman smiled warmly for the first time as she draped the towel over Gwen’s shoulders.
She took Gwen’s hand in both of hers.
“My dear, you ignore the dramatics of an old woman, my home is full of cats. There is no need to fear them.”
Mariya turned Gwen’s hand over and passed her fingers over her palm. Gwen could feel her examining every line.
“There is no need to fear as long as you love them and never betray them.”
Gwen had never known love without betrayal.
“Sit,” she instructed. “I have someone I wish to introduce to you.”
Completely mesmerized by what was happening, Gwen and Larry took their seats as they were told.
“I only accept newborns and I keep them for six months. I am the first mother to all my children.”
Mariya slid the lid off of the box.
“I must warn you,” she said as she leaned back in her chair, “this one is a charmer.”
The kitten slowly, and cautiously, raised its head outside the box. His big, soulful, blue grey eyes were devastating.
“I named him Casanova.”
As if on cue, the kitten placed his two front paws on the edge of the box and raised himself up with a long stretch.
“His birth mother died bringing him into the world and he is the only surviving member of his litter.”
Casanova had a solid black coat, with white fur on his paws, belly, chest, and throat. Gwen thought his facial coloration made it look as if he was wearing a black mask over his eyes and head. Larry had the same thought, but also noted that the coloration of his lower jaw and chin gave the cat a jaunty goatee beneath his disguise.
“He was born all skin and
“Every cat has the primordial history of their big cat ancestors in their veins.”
She placed the box on the table.
“Like the Gypsy blood that flows through mine.”
The woman began scrutinizing her visitors.
“And whatever flows through yours.”
Gwen and Larry both suddenly felt self-conscious of the fact that they were dripping rain water on the woman’s fancy carpeted floor.
“New York makes its own gravy when it rains,” was the only thing Gwen could think to say by way of an apology.
It was an awkward moment, but after what seemed like an eternity the woman smiled at Gwen. With that she grasped the bookshelf closest to her. It opened easily to reveal a hidden storage room.
“Domestic cats are the progeny of steely hunters, cunning stalkers, and cold blooded killers,” she continued as she stepped into the room. “They have the exact same set of tools to kill, and to them, size is no matter.”
Gwen and Larry could hear jangling keys and a door open and close.
“Even a small cat with all its claws can attach itself with great force anywhere upon a body.”
She had discarded the googles and rubber gloves and returned with two towels.
“Those sixteen little daggers will cut through cloth and flesh. The pain that comes with that kind of attack will bring a person to their knees. As the prey of big cats we instinctually feel that and so we fear.”
“We could always get it declawed,” Larry offered and wished he could take back just as quickly when the old woman responded with a cold as death stare.
“I am Mariya Ouspenskaya and this is my pet shop.”
She tossed Larry a towel.
“It is also my home.”
Her glare remained fixed on him.
“Do not speak of such things in my home.”
“I apologize.”
“You may call me Madame Ouspenskaya.”
Before Larry could speak his name the old woman dismissed him with a wave of her hand.
“They tried to take it from me. My home. I fought them. Tooth and nail. For many, many years. I won. They had to build their damn colossus around me.”
She approached Gwen and let the folded towel fall loose in her hands.
“You may call me Mariya.”
The old woman smiled warmly for the first time as she draped the towel over Gwen’s shoulders.
She took Gwen’s hand in both of hers.
“My dear, you ignore the dramatics of an old woman, my home is full of cats. There is no need to fear them.”
Mariya turned Gwen’s hand over and passed her fingers over her palm. Gwen could feel her examining every line.
“There is no need to fear as long as you love them and never betray them.”
Gwen had never known love without betrayal.
“Sit,” she instructed. “I have someone I wish to introduce to you.”
Completely mesmerized by what was happening, Gwen and Larry took their seats as they were told.
“I only accept newborns and I keep them for six months. I am the first mother to all my children.”
Mariya slid the lid off of the box.
“I must warn you,” she said as she leaned back in her chair, “this one is a charmer.”
The kitten slowly, and cautiously, raised its head outside the box. His big, soulful, blue grey eyes were devastating.
“I named him Casanova.”
As if on cue, the kitten placed his two front paws on the edge of the box and raised himself up with a long stretch.
“His birth mother died bringing him into the world and he is the only surviving member of his litter.”
Casanova had a solid black coat, with white fur on his paws, belly, chest, and throat. Gwen thought his facial coloration made it look as if he was wearing a black mask over his eyes and head. Larry had the same thought, but also noted that the coloration of his lower jaw and chin gave the cat a jaunty goatee beneath his disguise.
“He was born all skin and
Similar Books
