Articles by Beatrice Labonne

CATVISSON: A VILLAGE OF COOL CATS. 
 


Catvisson is obviously not on the map, but its complacent, stress-free cat population should earn the place a desirable spot in the Michelin guidebooks.  For its human folk the village’s name is Calvisson.  Although the village enjoyed some fame in the Middle Ages, very few people now seem to have heard of it.  The name is often mockingly pronounced like saucisson, a tasty dry sausage or even Calisson, a lozenge-shaped sweet. As a matter of fact, both delicacies can be purchased in the village shops.   


Calvisson is located in the south of France, and is home to close to 5000 inhabitants.  Attracted by the mild climate, laid-back atmosphere and proximity to the Mediterranean Sea, its humane population is fast growing.  Its feline population is also growing but for unrelated reasons.  United States president Abraham Lincoln correctly stated “No matter how much cats fight, there seems to be plenty of kittens.” This seems to be a legitimate reason. There is no cat census in Calvisson, but I would bet that some 1000 cats roam the streets and backyards of the village.  Calvisson and Catvisson exist side by side in an apparently peaceful relationship.  


I have always regarded myself as a cat lover, no matter the size of the feline. In my previous life I was company to several renowned cats.  Like French writer Colette, or may be Uber shrink Freud, I believed that “Time spent with cats is never wasted”.  I recently traveled to Namibia for a close encounter with the more exotic varieties such as leopards and cheetahs.  You may conclude that Calvisson’s felines provided an additional incentive for picking the village as my summer home.  Strangely, cats didn’t come into the equation.   How could I have anticipated that the village was not run by people, but by its self-confident, tenacious and selfish moggies? 


Before becoming acquainted with Catvisson society, for me cats basically fell into two categories:  the pampered and overweight urban pussies and the lean, stealthy feral cats.  My Catvisson experience has taught me that village cats enjoy a number of life styles and as a result form a species of their own. Village cats have the best of both worlds: they take pleasure in urban comfort while indulging in their rough world feline pursuits.  While Calvisson sleeps, Catvisson roars.  


Like Calvisson, Catvisson is divided into several fiefdoms.  My house is located on a narrow street where a large number of cats roam day and night. Until the summer of 2007, the alpha cat was an over-sexed tabby with a confident gait and an arrogant behaviour.  His owner, my neighbour called him Bob. Like many Homo sapiens living on our street, Bob seemed to do nothing for a living.  Bob is a cat with an attitude.  His routine drove me utterly crazy.  Had he not invaded both my deck and covered entrance?  He and his mates used them simultaneously as a brothel and an oversized litter box.  In spite of my threats, Bob had the upper hand.  I felt hapless and homicidal. Twisting his neck seemed like a sensible option.  Shrewd Bob never hung around too close.   He also refused the enhanced food I graciously offered… 


Apparently, in his own home, Bob’s antics were also disapproved by his owner.  He was finally taken to the vet for neutering surgery.  Soon after, Bob lost his libido, his regular playmates as well as his rivals.  At night our street became quieter.  My terrace and porch were no longer used as a lupanar and a litter box.  Unfortunately, the breather was only short-lived.  Bob morphed into a lazy bugger, put on weight, regained confidence and made new friends among similarly chastised cats.  With his new buddies, it re-appropriated the area and my premises.  Bob and his pals could spend hours lounging on my deck chairs, and dirtying and shedding hair on my towels. 


When disturbed they would fly off, to take a threatening position on the roof overlooking the swimming pool.  Although they had lost some of their past recklessness, to my regrets they never fell into the water.  As a reprisal for my unwelcoming behavior, they would brazenly dig my freshly planted flowers.  After three months in Calvisson, I had spent more money on cat repellent than on champagne! 


In order to reduce my bill for repellents, I invited a friend’s dog, Leo to spend some time in my courtyard.  Leo is a dedicated cat-hater, an efficient “scarecat.”  Cats took notice, bided their time but eventually came back. 


Bob no longer picks fights with the neighbouring moggies, but he continues to hold our street hostage.  My house is located not far from the mairie or city hall.  The cats who hang around the city hall are far more powerful.  They form a closely-knit gang, very protective of their perks and entitlements.  The more senior cat is known as Cubriné.  His second-in-command is Pascalou.  Some cats from other parts of the village like to hang around this pair, either looking for favors or providing advices.  It seems that Cubriné and Pascalou are always trying to lure the other gangs of cats into their home turf.  They have a large array of treats as well as tricks.  Pascalou is young, full of ambition and is in a permanent campaign for recognition.  Bob and his gang of laid-back cats seem to be dismissive of Pascalou’s tactics.   


European summer is drawing to a close, but Bob is still around nagging me, aloof and mischievous as ever. Today, I am again in a murderous mood.  Should I blame Bob for having ruined my new and expensive beach towel?  I take comfort in other people’s futile fights with village cats.  For some time to come, Catvisson will continue to have the upper hand over Calvisson.  


I suppose that I should make peace with Bob. The cat you know is so much better than the cat you don’t know!  Mischievous cats have inspired so many people, and I have a choice of cat quotes to illustrate my frustration.  These two are among my favorites: Mark Twain once wrote that “If man could be crossed with the cat it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat.” French writer Hippolyte Taine agreed with him and claimed “I have studied many philosophers and many cats. The wisdom of cats is infinitely superior.”  


Bob, see you next summer, hopefully! 


Disclaimer: All cats appearing in this story are fictitious and the product of my over active imagination.  Any resemblance to real cats, living or dead is purely coincidental. 


Beatrice Labonne.

September 26, 2007.