My cat is in heat.
This is not a euphemism. 
Being a first time cat owner, this is a whole new world for me. I was going to get her fixed this next week…but I missed the moon and the witching hour is upon us. This fur ball is hormones on roller-skates. She’s purring a deep low rumble: Barry White with claws. Then a yearning yowl as intense and wanting as any cougar stuck alone at the bar at last call. She presses her little fuzzy face against the window “let me out, LET ME OUT, my destiny is waiting!” She arches her back and winks her tiny vulva “look at me look at me look at me” – I mean, Nora and I have to look away. Its very uncomfortable. I’m not ready to explain this.
“What has happened to our cat, Mama?!” Nora is alarmed by the sharp shift in personality.
I step between my daughter and my cat’s various orifices.
“She’s…she’s ready for a boyfriend.”
Nora cranes her neck to see.
“But…but she’s just a baby!”
“Yeah…that’s what I thought. I guess cats start early.”
“but in human years she’s not even a teenager”
Inexplicably I say, “Yeah, well, your Nonna got married at thirteen.”
Suddenly I’ve just turned this conversation into something incredibly creepy. How do I even back out of it? “Nonna was not in heat, it was an arranged marriage” Best to leave it alone.
“What is she doing with her bum?”
“She wants to make babies.”
Nora’s eyes fly wide with excitement. “Oh Mommy! Can we-”
“No.”
“But we could keep one and sell the-”
“No. The SPCA would be very angry with Mommy.”
“Oh. But look how badly she wants to have kittens.”
I peek at my prostrate cat. I say to her and well as to Nora, “Trust me and Mick Jagger, we can’t always get what we want.”
It is several hours later and Licorice is now lounging on a pillow completely worn out with all her internal drama and maybe a bit…do cats get embarrassed? I look at her sympathetically, she looks at me. I give her a little consolation pat, “It’s okay, Cat. Been there. Done that.”
