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| Am at the Duplex in Rantoul, moving day 2005 |
So it was that Amethyst and I moved to the little town of Rantoul. Rantoul is some 16 miles North of Champaign-Urbana. It was the home of the Chanute Air Force Base until Cap Weinberger closed it down during the Regan years. It has a poor reputation among the local towns. While it can be faulted for shortsightedness and impoverishment, its reputation has more to do with subtle misperceptions. The commute to Urbana is easy. The rents are relatively low. Del and I had been thinking of shacking up, setting up house. I rejected moving into her townhouse, so I rented a duplex in the same community. In the late spring of 2006, I packed everything up and moved it all up to “Rantucky.”
Amethyst loved the duplex from the start. Most importantly
to a cat, the outside world was right outside the front door. The surroundings
were grassy and quiet. There were trees with birds. There were mice and other
rodents. There were plenty of squirrels. These were all creatures with which
Amethyst had long ago cut a deal of some feline sort, but nevertheless their
presence may have reassured her. They certainly were not reassured by her
presence. The birds and squirrels kept up an abusive sounding chatter whenever
Amethyst was outside sunning. Amethyst also liked the layout of the place.
There were three levels, all accessible via a short stairway. She had the run
of the place. She had litter boxes and food on two levels. For scratching
entertainment, she chose to work her claws out on the lowest stair to the upper
level. The shag of the carpet was so thick that the damage she did was minimal.
For the first time, I really noticed Amethyst’s age
catching up to her. She was still a 10- pound cat with all of her senses and
claws, but she had a much-diminished interest in play. She would still chase
the leather-tasseled string, but only for a short time and under certain
limited conditions. She preferred it if she did not have to move all that much.
Now we slept in Del’s big bed, with an actual frame and box spring, instead of
my now discarded mattress that had lain directly on the floor. After a few
tries, it was clear that Amethyst could not jump up on it, though she wanted
to. We saw her fall a few times in the attempt. I found a cardboard box,
covered it with a small folded piece of fabric, and set it up as a jump up.
Eventually, she had jump ups to the couch as well. For this reason, she was
deemed a low escape risk. She went out accompanied. She mostly liked to find a
sunny spot and lie upside down there. She was cute for a moment, but as boring
to watch over the long haul as a clothes dryer.
She was so sedate that on a few occasions, Del got busy
with gardening, crocheting, or talking on the phone and let Amethyst’s presence
slip from her mind. Sometimes that first summer in Rantoul, the sun would slip
down on that peaceful scene unawares. Amethyst the cat was always aware,
however. In the evenings, the feline mind turns full-force to the hunt. I can
imagine that the creatures that lurked low profile by day emerged at dusk and
their scents worked their way by her nose. So she went to have a look see. It
was well after dark by the time I got to around to asking, “Sweetie, have you
seen the cat?” A search commenced. In the dark, Amethyst’s colors were
surprisingly hard to see. We reckoned, correctly, that she could not have gone
all that far. She was over at the other side of the duplex, our neighbors’
side, sniffing around in their cellar stairway. On another occasion, Del
reported that she had made it across the road and was working her way down the
opposite sidewalk. Her method was to make some tracks and then pause for a
rest. After these incidents, we kept a much closer watch on her when she was
out.
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| Amethyst, outside at 1423 Southpoint Drive |
