The Rubber Band Cat

             The first day I arrived in Twin Falls, I was resting in the living room when I noticed something that concerned me.  Diablo, the shiny black cat with the yellow eyes that belongs to my grandson, Ben, was walking around with something long hanging from his mouth.  Cats are notorious for swallowing things that shouldn’t be swallowed, so I warned my grandson.  

            “No, Gramma, he’s fine,” said Ben who is twelve.  “It’s a rubber band.  He won’t swallow it.  Remember the army men and the Legos®?”

            Diablo was adopted by Ben from a box of free kittens at the Washington County Fair three years ago.  Ben had lost his other cat, Friskies, to an accident just a short time before.  When he saw a little black male kitten he had to have it.  A quick phone call to his mother and he had permission to bring the kitten home.

            Diablo, which means devil in Spanish, was no ordinary cat.  In his mind, he’s not a cat at all.  He is a boy—a small, somewhat strangely-shaped and furry boy.  And he came to live with a boy named Ben whose favorite things, beside cats, were Legos® and army men.

            For a while Diablo came when anyone called out “Ben,” even if Ben didn’t hear or wasn’t at home.  As a kitten, Diablo was offered cat toys—balls with bells, squeaky toys, things to roll and bite and toss.  Even cat toys with catnip inside.  He was not interested.

Diablo loved army men!  He watched while Ben played with them and when Ben wasn’t looking, Diablo took them, one at a time.  Diablo hid army men in the top bunk of Ben’s bed.  He hid them in the kitchen behind his food dish.  And he walked around the house carrying one in his mouth.  Army men were important to Ben so they were important to Diablo, too. 

            Then, for Christmas Ben got a new set of Legos® that had parts for building cars and trucks.  In this set there were tiny, oblong, half blocks just the size of one peg.  Diablo decided those mini Legos® were just right for him to play with.  He took those little blocks, one at a time.  He would carry one around for hours, in his front teeth, with the red end peeking out from between his lips.  Carrying such a small thing, Diablo could leap to the top of the refrigerator and then to the top of the upper kitchen cupboard. 

Once, Ben’s mom found a whole stash of mini blocks and single blocks on top of that cupboard—along with two old army men, which were very dusty.

            Diablo continued to play with the mini Legos® and carry them around with him, until Ben started to play Soccer.  When Diablo found he couldn’t carry around a Soccer ball, or shin guards, he switched to rubber bands. 

We think maybe it’s because they smell or feel like the elastic bands that fasten Ben’s shin guards.  Now the entire family finds rubber bands lying all over the house on the floor or the furniture.  We pick them up and put them on the desk where our strange little fur-covered boy can find his toys again. 

Recently I heard a report from Ben that Diablo has found a wonderful new storage place for his rubber bands.  He drops them into any shoes he finds in the living room.  So now everyone who leaves shoes in the living room has to check them for rubber bands.  Diablo has been seen retrieving rubber bands by sticking his nose into every shoe until he finds what he wants—one of his weird toys.

Post script:  Last week I received a very sad call.  Diablo was dead at the very young age of four because of a freak accident. 

The family has moved to a new house, which has a tall pantry in the kitchen.  That door had been left ajar accidentally after supper one evening.  The family was in the living room when they heard a really loud crash and went to the kitchen to investigate. 

Diablo had climbed up to the top shelf of the pantry, with the door only slightly opened, leaving a very narrow space between the inside of the door and the protruding ends of the shelves.  When he turned around to come down in the dark, narrow space something happened and he landed head first on the floor.  His neck was broken from the force of his body falling, and he died just a few seconds after my daughter arrived and opened the door wide.  Ben came in and was able to spend a short time alone with him, saying goodbye.  The tragedy was a shock to all of us.

We know there will be other cats in our family, perhaps even other black cats with yellow eyes—but there will never be another Diablo—our furry little boy who grew up on army men and Legos® and graduated to rubber bands.  His quirky personality gave us so much pleasure and he is sorely missed, and remembered with affection and love by all of us in his family.

© Sandy F.