Boris and Natasha's home page

Table of contents

          Introduction
          Buying our first house
          Selling our first house
          Natasha and other dimensions
          Natasha and Tarot cards
          Photos (separate page, takes a while to load) (2.1)

"We who choose to surround ourselves
with lives even more temporary
than our own
live within a fragile circle,
easily and often breached.

Unable to accept its awful gaps,
we still would live no other way."

Irving Townsend in The Once Again Prince

Introduction

          Boris and Natasha are our cats. Or are we their house and food providers? They are brother and sister, and were born 1 August 1988 to Gwen, the cat of a friend of ours. We later figured out that their father must be Charlie, who lived across the street. They were, of course, named after the infamous pair of villains from the 1960's TV show Rocky & Bullwinkle. Their full names, therefore are Boris Charlieovich Badenuf and Natasha Charlieovna Fatale. Naming them after villains was a mistake, since they display much in the way of villainous behaviour. Despite, or maybe because of, the fact that they are indoor cats, they are always trying to get outside, especially Boris. Fortunately they are scared of cars, so they don't stray and are easy to catch.

          Boris is mostly Lesley's cat. He used to totally ignore me, but when he was two years old we went on a three week vacation and he was left alone with Natasha. I guess he decided I was better than nothing, because he is now affectionate with me as well.

          Natasha is my familiar. Although she'll curl up in anyone's lap, she prefers my lap or shoulder. She is very clingy, and yet hates to be held. She has to be free to move anytime she wants. She also hates it when I leave the house. On the other hand, she is also has an amazing killer instinct. She once caught a housefly out of mid-air with her paw. While being able to put on the sweetest face, she is also quite capable of looking satanic, as you can see on the photo page (photo N2, N6).

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How Natasha caused us to buy a house

List of Characters:
Natasha        Fur-faced little schemer
Boris          Her twin brother -- holds himself aloof
Fred           Innocent victim
Lesley         Innocent victim

          First some relevant background information. Natasha is a strange mixture of being an extremely loving and attentive cat and possessing a vicious killer instinct, with tuxedo colouring. She can sit on your lap while you eat steak, but if she spots a spider or bird, it's instant "kill mode." (By the way, she rarely goes outside, and never unsupervised, and she doesn't like it out there either.) She has phenomenal control over her claws. She almost never extends them, she would rather fall off your lap than use claws. She can also run up your body to perch on your shoulder without extending her claws! She does, however, keep them sharpened to needle points. As I said, a strange mixture.

          After many years of wanting a house, Lesley & I decided in the spring of 1993 it was time to get serious. House prices were low, mortgage rates were low, we both had a permanent jobs, so why not. I went to the bank on a day off to talk to a mortgage officer to find out what we could afford. A very nice manager (Betty) did a little calculating, and told us the bank was sponsoring a seminar on "How to buy your first house" with a mortgage officer, notary, real estate agent, and house inspector, and that we should attend. We did so, and decided that we would wait for next spring, and in the meantime, pretend we had a mortgage and bank the difference between rent and mortgage to add to the down payment (and see if we could live on the leftovers).
          Natasha normally sleeps on or beside my legs, but liked to creep up at about 4:30 AM and wrap herself around my arms, purr and knead my face, usually the eye sockets. Because of her retracted claws, it never hurts. In fact, when you can feel the claws, it's time to clip them.
          Now we fast-forward to the week leading up to Friday, August 13th 1993. Her claws were getting too long, but we were really busy, so they weren't clipped. On Thursday the 12th, I was at a wedding and did not arrive home until 2 AM on the 13th. At 4:30, Natasha crept up to wrap herself around me and knead my face. After only 2 1/2 hours sleep, I was rather groggy and had one eye partially open. She touched my eyeball, and it stung. I didn't realize that the claw had touched, and I fell asleep again.
          The next morning, it still stung, so I went to the doctor (Lesley was at work and I had the day off). I found out I had a "bad corneal abrasion" and got my eye patched. Have you ever tried to tell a doctor on Friday the 13th that a black cat scratched your eye? You get very sceptical looks, and some very suspicious questions! I then had to get home by public transit, half-blind. For the next few days, I had to go in every morning to have the patch removed (actually a bandage that was taped over half my face) and the eye checked. On one of the visits, Lesley saw (I wasn't seeing much) Betty, the loan officer, at the clinic. She asked if we were still looking for a house, since prices and interest rates had dropped even more since the spring.
          So, the next weekend, when I could see again, we decided to drive around and look at a few houses. We took down some addresses and phone numbers. The second house we looked at we fell in love with and bought! We made the offer to purchase at the end of August on the full moon. We had a choice of closing dates: 29 October (Lesley's birthday), 30 October (full moon) or 31st (Hallowe'en). I chose the 29th so that I can claim that I bought Lesley a house for her birthday! We moved in the 30th. (Hey, I was born on a full moon, which is why Natasha is my familiar.)

          Natasha has only kneaded my face once since that fateful day. I think she knows what happened, and won't risk it again. She also knows that she is responsible for us getting the house, so of course it was really hers.

          (Separate page with 4"x6" photos of the house.)

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Natasha, Boris, and a real estate agent

          Because Natasha considered the house to be hers, she wasn't happy with the idea of selling it. How did she react? Here is the story, as quoted from Restructured, Lesley's account of 1996.

A red and white Royal LePage sign was planted on our front yard, making me think of the flag the Americans planted on the moon. Neither F. or I could look out the window without being reminded that our property had become a possession of CP. Our cats, Boris and Natasha, could sniff out real estate agents almost as expertly as they detect vets. When D.H. came over, Natasha confronted him in a guerrilla crouch, staring at him with huge, reproachful eyes. Reproach soon turned into full-fledged "J'accuse." Finally D.H. raised his hands, looked at her and said, "It's not my fault!" They followed D.H. all over the house, Natasha as envoy, Boris taking on the role of back-up goon, stationed a few feet behind his sister.

          The look she gave D.H. is captured in a photo taken several years ago, which is on their photo page (photo N3).

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Natasha and other dimensions

          Natasha (my familiar) seems to exist in several other planes of existence as well as this one. Sometimes something happens in another dimension, and you see the reaction. Occasionally Natasha gets hunted in some other dimension and stands staring wide-eyed, whimpering. If I call her gently and repeatedly, after a minute or two you can see the fear fade and she's back. Different locales affect her differently. It seems like the fabric of the space-time continuum is thinner in some places than others. The top of an antique armoire in the corner of the bedroom is really bad for her. The house in Dorval was a safe haven for her, and our current house isn't too bad for Natasha. For Boris, our current house is not a safe haven, he is spending a lot of unhappy time in alternate dimensions. I hope things get better for him. No wonder he keeps trying to get outside.

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Natasha and the Tarot

          A related story, appropriate for Halloween.


          A couple of years ago, I decided to get out my Tarot cards and handle them for a while. (For those of you not familiar with Tarot cards, I ascribe to the belief that no one else should touch them, except if you are doing a reading for that person. No one has ever touched my cards.) As I worked with them, Natasha came into the room, and slowly approached, sniffing all the while. Since she is so close to me, I thought I'd see how she'd react to touching them. I was holding the deck in my hand, and she came closer. The instant her nose touched the cards, she "toastered" about 2 feet in the air, landed about 3 feet away staring wide-eyed at the cards, then slowly backed away bristling.
          If I ever doubted the power of Tarot cards before, I've never doubted since then.

Photos of Boris & Natasha

          A page (2.1) of photos of our evil twins. It takes a while to load.

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© 1997-2000 Fred Van Driel. Photos © 1993, 1994 Fred Van Driel.

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Last minor change: 00/04/08
Last major change: 97/11/26