Amelia's Most Famous Resident, and No, She's Not Giving Autographs
She might consider a PAW-tograph though.
First, let me tell you about Amelia, which is an gorgeous Italian village in an obscure corner of Umbria, redolent of wood smoke in the winter, night-blooming jasmine in the spring, overheated roses in the summer, and moldering leaves in the fall. I’m absolutely crazy about it.
Four hundred years older than Rome, Amelia is believed by many scholars to be the oldest village in Italy. It certainly met the requirements of its original inhabitants, the Etruscans, who preferred locations offering a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside (the better to spot any potential enemies) and a reliable water source.
Even today, Etruscan influence is still felt. Had the Romans organized the village, all streets would radiate from a single piazza. Instead, Amelia is a bewildering rabbit warren of streets without reason or purpose, a clear signature of Etruscan city planning. To me, this is delicious because there’s no telling where you might wind up. A surprise awaits you around every corner; a mystery behind every door.
It’s also the perfect village, say, for naughty and misbehaved kitties determined to make their presence felt.
Kitties like this one:
Her name is Tea (TAY-uh in Italian), and she is the small, furry god of everyone’s idolatry. Six years or so ago, she was a randagia, a stray, part of a feral colony that lives behind the Conad, our local grocery store. Then a kind woman who lives up the hill on Via Cavour adopted her. Unfortunately, trying to keep Tea inside was like trying to pin fog to a billboard. She had places to go. She sashayed around town, tail up, whiskers high, accompanying children to the bus stop, supervising haircuts, blowouts, and dye jobs at the local parrucchiere, making sure everyone received their coffee order at the bar. Her duties, which Tea takes with the utmost seriousness, bring her outside the historic center’s polygonal, 3rd-century BC walls, where she has established as her exclusive kingdom the newspaper kiosk of one Anna Rita.
On any given night, you could pass by Anna Rita’s newsstand and see Tea curled up on top of various periodicals that have met with her approval. Being the sweet, loving woman that she is, Anna Rita actually installed air conditioning in the kiosk for Tea’s comfort during the summer. It’s not easy schlepping around town in a fur coat to meet with adoring fans. Sometimes a kitty needs a cool, well-ventilated place to lay her head. Anna Rita totally understands that, and spoils her accordingly.
Tea doesn’t see well (cataracts, perhaps?), which may have been why she ran into a little trouble crossing the street one night. Drivers come whizzing over the hill; one clipped her leg, sending Tea to the vet. Her back leg needed mending, but that didn’t slow her down. Shortly thereafter, she was out doing her usual patrol, accepting treats and pets, which are her due, and admonishing bar patrons reading the paper to finish one article before going on to the other. I mean, really.
Tea healed nicely and suffers from only a slight limp, but my heart leaps to my throat every day I see her crossing the street (BAD KITTY). A few weeks ago, I picked her up and carried her across, which she did not like. She tried biting me, but Tea doesn’t have any teeth left, so it wasn’t perhaps as effective a deterrent as she’d hoped. I managed to get her to safety, although I received no thanks for it. You know how it is with celebrities.
And a celebrity she is. One of the local papers ran the following article about Tea, extolling her adorableness, independence, and the fact that Amelia is hers and hers alone. She kindly and magnanimously allows us to stay here. We’re very appreciative.
For self-possession, you will not find Tea’s equal anywhere. She is aspirational. Tea knows exactly who she is, what she is, and she doesn’t gives two shakes what you think about it. Amelia and everyone in it exists at her pleasure.
And that’s just the way it should be.
Do you have a Tea in your life? I want to hear about it! Leave your comments below.
I've told you my "three types of cat people" story, I'm sure.
Some years back (13 -- 14) I had a one year position at a small LAC outside Boston. At that time, my colleague (and later coauthor) Randy Auxier was editor of "The Library of Living Philosophers," a highly respected series of books that collected essays on prominent living philosophers, who would in turn address themselves to the essays about their work. Randy had just complete one on a famous scholar, Jaakko Hintikka, who lived and worked half the hear at BU. So Randy came out to Boston to celebrate with Hintikka the completion of this book (it is a MAJOR project), and, having spent some time studying Hintikka's work, I got to go along with.
Well, we stopped at his house prior to going out to dinner, and sat in the living room chatting and sipping from the bottle of champagne Hintikka had popped for our visit. While sitting there on his sofa, this very old tuxedo cat came down the stairs. Without even looking around, it marched over to me, hopped into my lap, and resumed whatever nap it had interrupted in order to come downstairs.
Hintikka was absolutely gobsmacked. "That cat is always so shy around strangers!" he exclaimed. Randy nodded and smiled a moment before replying.
"The thing you need to know," Randy said, "is that while cats like me, they *love* Gary."
Love this story! Can I narrate for my podcast?