Collaring Ketchup

When my French friend Bruno stopped by unexpectedly, he walked into a yard with two kids tossing treats at two cats and their aunt on a FaceTime call while their dad came out the front door with fresh Betadine on him. A typical Patmos evening activity. As is his nature, he seemed relatively unfazed and was happy to see me and us.

Bruno lives in Paris. He speaks immaculate English after years of working for American companies and has two twenty-something-year-old boys who he happily raised Jewish, in their mother's faith. He's a really cool and interesting guy. I met him two summers ago at yoga. His girlfriend Agnes owns a house in Hora and they come to Patmos regularly in the summer. Only this year, Bruno and Agnes were here only for a few days before ceding her house to Airbnb guests and instead taking off to tour other islands. Between their social schedule and me with kids, lining up schedules wasn't easy – so as he was passing on his bike, Bruno just stopped by – which was nice.

It just happened at an unusual moment.

The circus in our yard was about getting flea collars on the two full-time resident cats – Gingos and Ketchup – so they can occasionally come inside. The kids have been set on being able to bring the cats into the house this year and I'm only allowing it if the cats are treated for fleas – and ideally all manner of insects. Drops on the back of the neck were and remain an option – only those last only 30 days. Researching the options at PetSmart during my one day in Westlake, I learned the collars give seven months of protection. In my calculus, getting these cats to allow us to use either product would be a relatively similar effort – so why not get the most for the effort? They can be flea-free long after both flea season and we are gone.

I'm not a cat person. I don't even typically pet the cats. I'm happy to feed them, give them treats and then let them lead their lives. So navigating getting breakaway flea collars on two feral cats is outside my knowledge base. My sister is an animal whisperer – so it made sense to have the kids FaceTime Aunt Andrea for support. In my original vision, it would be a sweet moment where the kids and their aunt worked together to help the cats in our yard. I could be inside – making dinner or doing laundry or just not caring about cats. 

As with so many things, my vision was a bit naive. The cats got perhaps too many treats. Andrea felt we needed to be more confident with the cats. Sennen didn't want to do anything that would make the cats angry with him and affect their relationships. Ailyn was hesitant. So everyone decided I should pick up a cat and let one of the kids slip a collar on it. It was absolutely not what I wanted – but knowing how important it was to the kids, I decided to take it on.

The big mistake was picking up Gingos. He's the cat they care about most – but he's also the smartest. He knew I don't usually pet him. He could tell I wanted something. He didn't like the look of the collar. So when I used treats to bring him to me and pet him, he immediately suspected an ulterior motive. When I picked him up, he freaked out and in his attempt to hop out of my arms, he scratched my hand and chest. Somehow the kids had heard of Cat Scratch Fever so they became immediately worried for me – especially since I was bleeding on my hand. Both thankfully and sadly, Ziv had left us Betadine after cutting his hands from tripping as he exited the water at Petra (one of several reasons to wear water shoes on the pebble beaches). Hence my Betadine stained hand at Bruno's arrival.

Gingos seemed like a lost cause at that point, so we turned out attention to Ketchup. After a lot of treats and too many half-hearted attempts, Ketchup – the less intelligent of the two cats – perched himself on the stairs leading up to the roof. He picked the perfect step for my height. I came up, pet him for a bit, got him relaxed, quickly pulled the collar around his heads and despite some initial pull-back, managed to cinch it enough to stay on without being tight on him. It was a shockingly perfect execution.

At least for me. Ketchup was shocked and began hopping around the yard seeing if he could shake off the collar and trying to make sense of what it was. After about five minutes, he settled down and seemed to accept it. From what Aunt Andrea said during this whole process, the flea relief should have begun within minutes – so I comfort myself with the idea that Ketchup should be feeling better. He spent the rest of the evening away from the porch – but this morning is back to his regular routine and had no issues with me when I went out to feed them. He also looks kinda' cute having a collar and appearing more domesticated. 

Despite a lot of coaching and ideas from Aunt Andrea, we decided to come back around on Gingos another time. At the end of the long call, Andrea counseled me to be the human and be in charge. They're just cats. Gingos thinks he's in charge, because in effect, he is. We're letting him. I'm not sure if we're letting him because I'm not sure we were ever in charge. He's a cat who manages a yard in a complex eco-system of feline society. We're people who live in the house that coincides with his domain. We've developed a nice relationship between he parties – but I don't know we're their "owners" in the traditional sense.

Andrea stressed that Gingos clearly likes us and wants into the house – which means he'll forgive a transgression and to pet him, hold him down gently and get the collar on him. Since I have enough Betadine, I'm willing to give it one more try. If that fails, we move to Plan B – getting drops from the pharmacy at the back of town and treating Gingos for only 30 days. Assuming that works.

Andrea assured me that when Gingos gets to be in the house sometimes, he'll be very happy – and he'll be flea-free which is also a major benefit to him. If he understood the cause and effect, he'd willingly agree. He just doesn't. 

Given Andrea is like Snow White and the woodland creatures all come to her and magically communicate, I'm not sure if she's right – or she lacks a real handle on our less-than-ideal situation. She demonstrated picking up her cat, Milo who naturally let her do anything to it. I'm not sure Gingos and Milo are living parallel lives. But it matters a lot to the kids – so I'm in for another round. If we were able to make the ferry the other day, we surely can get a collar on a cat….?

In the meantime, as word of the bounty of our house has spread within the feline community, new cats have been stopping by for lunch or dinner. Recently, we've seen the addition of skittish Jackie and brave Bella – who looks like a female version of Gingos and was initially being called "Girl Gingos" until I encouraged a proper naming. The National Geographic of Patmos cats that is our front yard is a major part of the kids' summer experience.

The kids are true to form in other regards. Yesterday we went to Petra Beach for the first time of their summer – at which they sunned themselves (bathed in SPF 70 Neutrogena Beach Defense sunscreen) and swam in the gorgeous water. We capped our evening with a great meal at our favorite restaurant – Ktima Petra – where they had their favorites: oven roasted goat with potatoes and moussaka. Ktima Petra has its own organic farm and their produce is absolutely the best on the island – making everything taste spectacular, especially their eggplant spread which I could eat by the buckets. I learned last night that the family's grandmother makes that particular dish herself every day or two over the course of about seven months a year.

"I think she is the only person on Patmos who makes it this way and only she knows how," one of the waiters/family members told me.

It reminded me of my great-grandmother who was the matriarchal cook of our family and who was hesitant to teach anyone her secrets – which led to massive efforts to reconstruct her recipes. It would have been so nice had she participated in handing down those important family heirlooms. It also makes that Patmian grandma a single-point-of-failure in Ktima Petra's operations.

In a moment of panic, I said, "But what happens if one day she gets too tired to keep doing this?" AKA – what happens if she dies? That eggplant spread is an important part of this island. Someone needs to get the recipe out of that grandma.

However, that is for someone else to tackle. I just hope they too have an aunt available on FaceTime and a good supply of Betadine.