I liked Bill the first time I met him. He had a comfortable kind of averageness about him. He was a system's analyst and I was the database analyst assigned to his latest project. Bill was from the Midwest where folks are a bit more intimately involved in the care of elderly parents than we are in the LA basin. He trained in computer science in the late 60's when he realized that the family farm couldn't support both he and his three brothers. His wife, Joanne was also from a farm family in the Midwest. She was an attorney for a similar reason; and in fact when her father died in 1994, their farm was sold and her mother moved in with Bill and Joanne, along with her cat Celeste. A great deal more will be said about Celeste since she's the cat in the title.

But, as I was saying, Bill and I were working on a software project for the bank that employed us. I remember Bill was a bit discouraged at the time. Deadlines for the project he was leading were unreasonable...as usual, and one had already slipped by two months, which was pretty bad for a project that Bill's boss thought should take eighteen months. Bill thought it would probably take three years for the project; and so, like I said, he was feeling a little discouraged. He was tired of ten hour days, tired of death march projects, tired of seeing his friends laid off as the company continued to outsource it's information systems staff and just tired of doing the same thing year after year with a paycheck as the only "thank you very much". But, I've got to say, as tired as Bill was; he never took it out on those working on the project. He was patient when we slipped a deadline in our own work; explaining our failures to his boss in the best possible light and taking responsibility for delays himself.

But, Bill had a lot more to make him tired than just the daily grind at work. He had Celeste! Like I mentioned, Celeste came with Marge...or did Marge come with Celeste. It was never quite clear who was the guest and who was the baggage. Marge was Bill's mother in law. I'll tell you more about Marge; but really, that last sentence tells the whole story.

Anyway, Celeste came to live with Bill and Joanne three years ago after Marge lost her husband John. And Marge accompanied her. Marge, Joanne and Celeste got along wonderfully, almost like three generations of women in the same family, which of course, they almost were. I say almost, since though Celeste felt, as much like a member of the family as the others, it hardly seems reasonable to refer to a cat as a granddaughter. Marge, Joanne and Celeste got along famously. If Celeste had been disposed to trips to the mall, the gym and the masseuse, she might indeed have been indistinguishable from the other family women.

Marge, Joanne and Celeste got along swimmingly, but Bill's place in the mix was somewhat less happy, perhaps because it was less well defined. After all, where does a middle aged software engineer fit in a home comprised of three intuitive, sunny and precocious women? Bill had had a warm relationship with John. There's a practical necessity about software projects not unlike that of farming and the men understood each other. Bill also had a happy relationship with Joanne. Her vivacity complemented his studiousness and they enjoyed each other greatly. Bill was a courteous man, sort of a gentleman to use an obscure early twentieth century term. Because of this, he got along cordially with Marge. From the beginning of Bill and Joanne's marriage, Bill made a conscious effort to understand his mother in law; and though he never succeeded, he did at least learn to love her. It's rumored that Marge when she first met Bill, took Joanne aside and said, "I'm sure you know what you're doing sweetheart." By this she meant that she had no idea what Joanne was doing with a man like Bill. Somehow she hadn't noticed how much alike John and Bill were. But, she being a gentlewoman, to use an obscure late 19th century term made a heroic effort to understand Bill. She might have saved herself a great deal of work if she had remembered that she had given up understanding John years ago. Like Bill, Marge also never succeeded at this Herculean task, but she also learned to love John.

But this story is about Celeste. Particularly about Bill and Celeste. I've been avoiding referring to their relationship because, unlike the others, it was neither warm nor happy nor even cordial. Celeste not only did not understand Bill; she had the unalterable opinion that Bill was well beneath her station. She could not fathom why two such otherwise brilliant women would willingly put up with a male as dull as Bill. No, Celeste never came right out and said this to Bill...or to the other women for that matter, but her feelings were unmistakable. Bill first noticed the cat's arrogant attitude when he and Joanne visited the farm a few months before John's death. Still cultivating his relationship with Marge and realizing that Celeste was Marge's new pet (or was it that Marge was Celeste's human?)...Anyway, realizing that by making friends with Celeste, he might ingratiate himself further with Marge and anxious to facilitate their relationship for Joanne's sake, he stopped at a grocer on the way in and bought a pound of fresh tuna, with the purpose of wining or at least dining Celeste. Arriving at the farm, he half bowed with one arm behind his back and the other extended with the tuna just like it were a bouquet of roses and Celeste were Joanne. But, Celeste would have nothing to do with the tuna. Yes, she came up to Bill, she sniffed the tuna, then she turned, tail and head in the air and walked slowly back into the house. Bill tried several times later that day to interest Celeste in the gift, but each time she showed less interest than the time before. Adding insult to injury, at the end of the day, Marge put the tuna in a dish and Celeste immediately came and ate the entire bowl full. After eating, she walked through the living room where she rubbed her fur against the legs of first Marge and then John and finally Joanne. Then as she passed Bill's chair she pointedly walked several feet out of her way to avoid coming near him.

Bill's not the kind of guy to throw himself at an uninterested woman, so he gave up on Celeste. For the rest of the visit, he concentrated on the fun of days without work, the sunshine of Joanne's smile, the warm nonverbal communication between he and John, and he went back to work at understanding Marge. Marge, for her part, could not comprehend why Bill couldn't get along with her new pet; but determined to forgive him. She also went back to the impossible task of understanding her son in law. Celeste, however, took personal affront at the lack of attention on Bill's part during the remainder of the visit. Now, not only was Bill beneath her, but he was arrogant as well. She began to cherish a real dislike for Bill. As Bill and Joanne were leaving for the airport, Bill thought he'd give it one last shot and reached down to stroke Celeste good by. Joanne had done so and the cat had purred softly and contentedly. Bill reached down hoping for a like response; but by now, Bill's inattention had so aggravated Celeste that instead of purring softly she let loose with a volley of cat fury the likes of which Bill had never experienced and Marge and John had thought Celeste incapable. A Band-Aid took care of the damage to the back of his hand until Bill and Joanne arrived in Los Angeles, but Bill insisted on a tetanus shot the next day in spite of Joanne's protest that it wasn't necessary.

It wasn't much more than a month or two following the visit and Bill's spurned overtures that John began to experience the first of a series of heart problems. Frequent, hurried visits by Joanne, and less frequent, but no less caring visits by Bill occurred. The bad blood between Celeste and Bill, though no less disagreeable, was at least pushed from the limelight while the family watched John slowly fail. Finally came the day when John had surgery. After the surgery, John recouped some of his former energy and Marge and John determined to repay some of Bill and Joanne's visits and spend some time in sunny California. The idea of the visit occurred in mid January and Bill was informed of their impending visit days before their arrival in early February. Bill naturally assumed that Marge and John would board Celeste or find other arrangements for her care. It never occurred to him that they would think of bringing her with them. Marge, on the other hand naturally, assumed that she and John AND Celeste would be welcome in her daughter's home. Neither Joanne nor Bill nor John nor Marge considered discussing the matter prior to the visit. So it was, that at the end of the then current death march, when Bill was working six twelve hour days a week, the week after half of the department he worked in was outsourced, Celeste brought John and Marge to California to visit Joanne. Celeste felt it was unfortunate that Bill had to be included in the visit, but saw no way around it; and so, determined to be as cordial as possible for a high strung feline. John pulled up in front of Bill and Joanne's house and Celeste announced their arrival by exiting the vehicle first, head and tail high and greeting Joanne. Joanne mildly surprised, but not disturbed by the presence of the cat bent to stroke Celeste who purred contentedly. John shook hands with Bill. Marge hugged Joanne. Bill, for his part, swallowed his tongue. He did not say, "I didn't know you were bringing the cat." He did not say, "Why couldn't you board the cat?" And he most certainly did not say, "How dare you bring that hateful creature to my home?" Instead, he shook John's hand and hugged Marge. He even thought of trying to stroke Celeste; but half way down, he imagined that he could still feel the scratch on the back of his hand which resulted from his previous attempt. He thought better of it and straightened up. Celeste, as Bill bent towards her, forgot her resolve. She stiffened and the fur stood up on her back. She was glad to see Joanne, but she'd be damned if she'd tolerate advances from this unseemly oaf. But when Bill stood back up after thinking better of the overture, she became incensed. Once more she remembered the arrogance displayed by this dull male during his visit to her home. With the others she was the center of attention; with him, she was, of all things, ignored! Now, she wasn't so sure she should have brought Marge and John to see Joanne. It wasn't at all clear that Joanne's society was worth putting up with Bill.

Celeste, Marge and John stayed in California just long enough for Celeste to be certain that Joanne's society was not worth the cost of putting up with Bills. Just long enough for Bill to make another heroic effort to ‘get to know' his mother in law. Just long enough for John to enjoy Bill's company. Just long enough for Santa Anas to clear the smog and provide a perfect day for a barbecue. Just long enough for Marge to notice Bill's indifference towards Celeste and to be a bit hurt by it. And, just long enough for Bill and Joanne to have a painful discussion about the advisability (Bill) or inadvisability (Joanne) of offering to pay for a pet motel for the last day or two of the visit. This conversation between Bill and Joanne occurred immediately after the barbecue I mentioned. It was during this barbecue that Bill began to feel badly about his ill will towards Celeste. He decided to make another effort, despite the warnings from the back of his hand. He took a piece of barbecued salmon from the plate after dinner, reached down and offered it to Celeste. This time he didn't do it like he was bringing flowers to Joanne. It was more like waving a handkerchief at an enemy. But, he wanted to do right by his wife. Marge was her mother and Celeste was Marge's cat and he enjoyed and loved Joanne; and, though he didn't understand Marge, he loved her. And by golly, he'd make another effort at the cat. Celeste, on the other hand, was above such noble sentiments. As Bill extended the salmon, she didn't smell the fish. She didn't see the conciliation in Bill's eyes. All she could see were the numerous times that he had ignored her. This time, instead of scratching the back of his hand, she slapped his face! When a cat slaps your face, you wish it had been a woman instead. Bill jumped backed. Joanne gasped. John...it's not clear...I heard he giggled. And Marge gathered Celeste in her arms and began to explain as gently as possible to the cat that she wouldn't let the hateful man hurt her, all the while looking at Bill in a way that reminded him of the way his mother had looked at him when she'd caught him at age thirteen with a Playboy in the bathroom. Well anyway, Joanne talked Bill out of offering to pay for a pet motel. Since he'd just had a tetanus, the best he could do in the way of martyrdom was to drive to the drug store for some antiseptic spray. By the time he got back from the drug store, it was clear to him that he'd never understand his mother in law; but he would forgive her. Marge and John had a discussion that evening also. John convinced Marge that Bill wasn't such a bad guy.

It wasn't long after this visit that it became clear, that the surgery not withstanding, John didn't have long. More heart problems. More hurried visits by both Joanne and Bill. Long nights of trying to comfort Marge. Hospital visits with John. Tearful good-byes because this good-bye might be the last. Finally, the last good-bye and Marge was left alone.

Bill and Joanne didn't need to discuss the invitation for Marge to visit. Bill didn't even bring up a pet motel. It never occurred to Marge either. So it was that Bill met Celeste and her human at Los Angeles International in early June. Bill and Joanne weren't surprised by Celeste's visit this time. One might even say that Bill was resigned. Anyway, Bill was in a better place now. The last death march project had concluded, if not successfully, at least survivably. There had been no more outsourcing, and he'd been assigned to a new project...an omen that he would have employment, impossible deadlines and twelve hour days for at least another twelve to eighteen months. So, it was with genuine compassion that he told his mother in law to stay for as long as she wanted. Marge, while tired from the difficult months just past, received the offer graciously and simply said she didn't know how long she'd like to stay, but appreciated the offer. She didn't have much energy for trying to understand Bill; but her gratitude for the company of her daughter's family was genuine. And, anyway, she did love Bill. Celeste, on the other hand, was fit to be tied. She had been in a cage...a cage! Can you imagine? The indignity! A cage! For nearly eight hours. She had spent the last four hours in the belly of a plane next to a Chihuahua that didn't stop yelping the entire trip. And now, she's met by ‘the dull one'. Where's Joanne? She had known she should have insisted that Marge not come to visit this horrible man!

Well, Celeste and Marge never did go home. Marge's attorney managed the sale of the farm. Marge spoke several times about getting her own condominium or apartment, but Bill and Joanne wouldn't hear of it. As the months progressed, while Bill and Marge didn't understand each other any better, they did start to communicate a little better...or worse...depending on how you look at it. Living with Bill and Joanne, Marge began to realize that Bill was a gentleman and began to trust him. This led to more openness than she had been used to practicing with Bill. She often just said what was on her mind. Sometimes, what was on her mind was constructive criticism. Sometimes what was on her mind was simply her opinion about something. Sometimes what was on her mind was something she couldn't understand about Bill. Because she loved Bill with some part of her being other than her head, the fact that she loved him never seemed to be on her mind. A lot of the time what was on her mind was the animosity between Bill and Celeste.

Bill too had grown a bit more open about his feelings. Living with his mother in law and hearing her openness with her opinions, he felt some safety in being open with her. He was most comfortable in being open about his feelings for the cat

Coming home and finding the cat in his chair, he'd mutter something about, ‘that damned cat', to which Marge would respond with something like, ‘Bill if you'd show some affection to Celeste, she'd learn to like you as well.'

Bill managed to limit his openness to his feelings about the cat, but Marge never quite managed to put boundaries on her opinions. She had opinions about John...err...I mean Bill. He ought to eat less fatty foods. He certainly must have high cholesterol. He ought to have more regular physical examinations. He should have had a treadmill during his last physical. He just doesn't exercise enough. But her number one peeve was that he worked too much. Bill had no defense against any of these. He was thirty pounds overweight, he loved Tommy's Burgers, and his idea of exercise was to take the batteries out of the remote control for a few hours. He was a bit sensitive about the last one though. Yes, he worked twelve to fourteen-hour days, but that was what it took to provide a home for Joanne, Marge and that lazy cat. He never let on, but it hurt him to think that Marge thought that he'd rather be at the office than at home in the evening with Joanne.

Well, by Thanksgiving, Marge had settled in comfortably. She thought about John only when she was alone. Joanne was busy at supporting a class action against a computer monitor manufacturer...seems they advertised 17 inch monitors which had 17 inch screens, but actual viewing areas of only 15.8 inches. Celeste had appropriated Bill's favorite chair as her throne and managed to limit the expression of her hatred of Bill to avoidance, with an occasional snarl accompanied by raised fur.

Bill barely noticed Celeste in early November. In fact, he barely noticed Marge or Joanne for that matter, as he was coming to the point of the project where he would be forced to announce the two-month delay. He was going through antacids at the rate of a half a dozen a day and was losing every third or fourth night's sleep to insomnia. In fact, it wasn't so much that Bill didn't notice Marge or Joanne; what with Joanne's schedule and his, it seemed like he never saw her. He'd come home around nine. If there were leftovers from the weekend he'd microwave them; otherwise, he'd heat up a Swansons. He'd chase the meal with a beer. Then he'd ask Marge if she'd like a bowl of ice cream. She'd invariably answer, "no"; and that "he oughtn't to either, as ice cream led to high cholesterol which led to heart disease". After this exchange, he'd dish his own bowl, take a seat in the chair that was not Celeste's throne and watch whatever Marge was watching on TV. They'd talk a bit during commercials. He'd say something about the problems that he was experiencing with his project. She'd nod and say he was working too much which was also bad for his health. Around ten, Joanne would come home, fix herself a salad, talk to Marge a bit and stroke Celeste, who'd purr happily. Around eleven they'd all head for bed, only to waken around seven the next day and start the whole cycle again.

To say that Bill was looking forward to Thanksgiving would be a major understatement. The project and his weight be damned, he was going to eat turkey and stuffing and pumpkin pie and enjoy four days doing nothing but whatever he and Joanne wanted to do. They'd go to the mall and start the Christmas shopping. They'd stop at Starbucks along the way. They'd stay up until midnight eating popcorn and watching old movies. They'd barbecue the Sunday before returning to work. For four lovely days he'd forget that he was captain of the Titanic the rest of the year. The day before Thanksgiving, he took his pager off, ceremoniously placed it in the center of his desk and told me that if anything went wrong, I'd either have to deal with it or it would have to wait until the following Monday. He looked like a boy who is about to sneak into the circus as he left the building that Wednesday.

Imagine my surprise when the following Monday, instead of looking rested, Bill was wearing what can only be described as a haunted expression. It took me nearly a half-hour to get him to tell me what had happened that weekend. He just kept muttering things like, "There's only so much a man can take." or "I'm only human" or "I tried to be patient". I can be almost as patient as Bill. After a short eternity of mutterings, he finally came clean. Seems Thanksgiving Day was the perfect day. Turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, you name it. Bill was a happy man. He said he even forgot where he worked. Friday dawned bright and sunny like only Southern California November days can. Starbucks was the first stop. Bill actually wiped a bit of drool from his mouth while he told me about it. Then the mall followed by a fine Mexican restaurant where he'd had world class fajitas with galactic class margaritas. As it turned out there was a Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn movie on the PBS station, which went perfectly with popcorn and beer. Saturday had a visit to the Getty followed by dinner at a nice, quiet Italian restaurant and ice cream in front of a James Bond rerun. It wasn't until the Sunday afternoon barbecue that trouble in the person of Celeste raised its ugly head. Bill told me he thought nothing in the world could bother him. Me, I think he was secretly dreading returning to the Titanic on Monday. Anyway, he had had such a great weekend that he was actually feeling a bit euphoric. (Mild Santa Anas can do that to a guy.) Beyond euphoric, he was feeling expansive. In fact, he even thought for a moment that he liked the cat. So...you guessed it...he reached for a piece of barbecued salmon, which he presented to the cat in the manner of a king offering a pardon to a condemned criminal. Celeste, unfortunately, saw the matter in an entirely different light. Bill was no king, and she was much too great a cat to take table scraps from someone like him. Instead of seeing goodwill in the gesture, Celeste saw humiliation! Past fits of temper were nothing compared to the tornado of anger and hatred, which begin to seethe in the depths of her abdomen. She could tolerate insolence from this infuriating man no more! She leaped snarling, with claws unsheathed, not so much at Bill, as in blind fury. She landed, not so much on Bill, as on the source of her humiliation. But the claws sunk into Bill's face and Bill's nerves throbbed as though his face had been scraped with a dull razor and the anger that flushed Bill's face only made the bleeding worse. Well, this was it. Bill had finally reached the limit of his patience. He didn't hit the cat. He didn't strangle the cat. He didn't yell. He didn't swear. He merely said, "That cat has to go". And he meant it. He meant it as much as he'd meant the words "I do" years ago at an altar with Joanne. He meant it as much as when he'd pleaded with Marge to stay with he and Joanne after she'd sold her home. He was determined that it would happen. As determined as he had been to understand his mother in law. Celeste would have to find a home elsewhere. Joanne said nothing. What could she say? Truth be told, she understood how Bill felt. Even Marge understood, though it didn't stop her eyes from filling with tears as she left for her bedroom.

Nobody tried to dissuade Bill; and, Bill was just as determined the next morning, as he had been the night before. Joanne still understood. Celeste still had no idea. Marge had dried her eyes and steeled herself. She met Bill at breakfast and told him that she had called her sister in Chicago. She would make arrangements to ship Celeste to her sister. No, Bill shouldn't feel bad. She understood. She might not understand Bill, but she loved him and she knew he loved her and she wouldn't let a pet come between something as important as her relationship with her daughter and her daughter's husband. She said it bravely, but her eyes betrayed her. They were red. She didn't look like she'd slept much the night before. She had lost John in June and the loss of Celeste couldn't compare to that loss, but it was a loss none the less. Bill still didn't understand his mother in law, but he understood that she was hurting and because he loved her, he felt lousy. But he was still angry and hurt...funny that a cat can hurt your pride as well as your skin...and he was still determined. Celeste would go to Chicago. Marge would make arrangements to ship her before Christmas.

It was the week before Christmas before Marge actually got around to arranging Celeste's transportation. It wasn't easy to arrange for a flight. It wasn't easy to find a time when Joanne could take them to the airport. And most of all, it wasn't easy to reconcile herself to losing Celeste. But she'd promised Bill; and so, two days before Christmas, she put Celeste in the pet carrier, climbed into Joanne's van and took the long ride from Thousand Oaks to LAX. It hurt to put Celeste's cage on the counter. It hurt to watch the clerk place the carrier with the other animal cages. It hurt Joanne to see her mother hurt. But nobody could blame Bill. Nobody could expect him to take abuse like that from a family member, let alone a pet. Most of all, Joanne loved Bill, and Marge loved Joanne, and yes, Marge loved Bill and no cat was worth that. So, Marge dried her eyes and she and Joanne drove back to Thousand Oaks. That night when Bill offered Marge a bowl of ice cream, she didn't even nag him about his weight. She just politely declined.

The day before Christmas was one of those rare inclement days in Los Angeles that actually grounds planes. Nothing left the airport the entire morning and by the afternoon, flights were backed up to the point that several flights scheduled for that day would not leave until the next. Celeste's flight was one of them.

By Christmas morning, Bill was depressed. He hated that cat. The only thing he hated worse than his job was that cat. But the only thing he hated worse than that cat was hurting his mother in law. He knew that some flights had been delayed, but he wasn't sure which; so, he climbed into his four year old Accord and headed for the airport. As he drove, he listened to the all news station. The weatherman kept describing "scattered showers," but Bill's wipers could barely keep up with the sheets of water that fell on his windshield.

Before he left, he didn't mention where he was going...for all he knew the cat was in Chicago by now. Joanne was puzzled, even a little annoyed. She'd spent an entire day with Marge picking a gift for Bill and he wasn't around to open it. Marge wasn't puzzled. She knew. Bill was going to work on Christmas day! That precious project was more important to him than Joanne. She didn't realize it, but she had found a convenient outlet for the anger she felt at the loss of John and a good excuse for being angry at losing Celeste. She'd been wrong. Bill was just selfish! "What kind of man prefers work to his family on Christmas," she asked Joanne more than once.

Bill had a hard time finding the hangar at which they kept the pets awaiting transport. The rain hadn't slowed any. His coat was wet through when he arrived at the departure counter. His socks were moist when he arrived at the information counter a concourse away. Even his undershirt was soaked when he finally reached the hangar where they kept the animals. He sneezed as he asked the clerk for Celeste. Celeste snarled when she saw Bill and he sneezed again. Bill kept sneezing all the way back to Thousand Oaks as he listened to a weatherman who had finally upgraded his report to heavy showers. He listened to the weatherman with one ear and Celeste's snarls with the other.

As Bill's car pulled into the garage, Marge looked knowingly at Joanne. As Bill came in through the kitchen, she was peeling potatoes and muttered without turning around, "Well it's about time! The very idea!" Bill simply said, "Merry Christmas." Joanne didn't say anything, but Bill thought he saw a little tear in her eye when he brought Celeste's carrier into the kitchen. Marge finally heard the silence and turned around. She couldn't think of much to say. She did manage a quiet, "Thank you" which was probably more eloquent than anything else she could have said anyway. Celeste snarled. Bill sneezed.

Celeste still enjoys Marge and Joanne's company in her house. If she had her way, she'd be rid of the obnoxious man who lives with them in a heartbeat. Marge doesn't understand Bill, but now she knows she doesn't need to. She still nags him about his ice cream and cholesterol, but never about working too much. Bill still gets annoyed with Celeste, but Celeste makes Marge happy and Bill loves Marge. He realized on the trip back from the airport, in between sneezes, that he loved her not so much because Marge was Joanne's mother, but because Marge was Marge.

Oh yes, Bill finally delivered the project he and I were working on. It was only six months late. He was outsourced a year later and now works for another bank where he develops software for an unreasonable boss against impossible deadlines. He now says he feels like the skipper of the Minnow.