by Squeakers in 2007, Wesleyan's cat-in-residence 1985-2008

As I stretch in the light of an already warm morning sun, I drift in and out pondering and savoring the words of Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Mrs. Marks from 1788: “It is neither wealth nor splendor, but tranquility and occupation, which give happiness.”

I do love a good romance novel; and the library’s selection keeps even an old academic working cat youthful. Wesleyan has been my home as long as I can remember — since 1985, I’ve overheard. Although my memory is not what it used to be, an archived photograph places me at my preferred spot on the library steps as early as 1998. Dates are best for eating; but nonetheless, I am the cat-in-residence for now.

From my perch atop the Willet Memorial Library steps, mornings are filled with smiles and hellos from each passing student. Campus mornings bring the basic necessities in life: those under-the-chin scratches that I so dearly love, and (always on schedule) my well-trained caregivers with dishes of my favorite grilled delicacies… chicken or tuna most mornings, with an occasional salmon goody on special days.

Essential morning responsibilities include guarding the library stairs, greeting visitors. Waiting. Watching. A few worthy individuals may be granted the opportunity to smooth my fur. A distraction, but I allow it. A day in my life, though, is not completely without its challenges and surprises. Just last week a horrid upheaval outside the library ensued with the installation of a new library roof. The new roof is a wonderfully needed repair, without doubt, but the falling old shingles posed a serious inconvenience… not to mention an impediment to early morning rodent control rounds. This coupled with the recent hedge trimming that eliminated at least a dozen excellent hiding places—well, one must resort to drastic measure.

So, a stowaway I’ve become—skulking amongst the books inside. Reunited at long last with old loves — Chaucer, Shakespeare, Proust, Hemingway. The Georgia Room, one of my favorite haunts, houses special collections on Sidney Lanier, Harry Stillwell Edwards, and the lovely Soong Sisters. Pishaw, humidity. Call it a self-promotion, if you must, but with increased perks come increased responsibilities. Rodents fear me until doors open, then it’s greet, greet, greet. Twirling in and out of new releases begins mid-morning.

But nothing quite compares to the quiet after hours on the third floor listening to selections of jazz from our vast music collection in the audio booth. Three words, friends: Grove Music Online. Adieu paper-cut paws, this award winning resource includes the 29-volume New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, the 4-volume New Grove Dictionary of Opera, plus the 3-volume New Grove Dictionary of Jazz…and oh!, extensive links to internet music sites.

To my surprise, my move inside the library has been quite successful, my efforts appreciated, and my reward: a new cushioned chair. Easily available to all, I greet patrons from my new perch (sometimes with enthusiasm, sometimes a passive approach works well). Either way, I am more accessible to a wealth of attention, scratches, and meals. I’m a regular in the new library lounge — a comfortable, bright space where library users eat, drink, study, and relax. It is here that I make a valid contribution to The Book Club. Five purrs for the summer selection, The Master Butchers Singing Club by Louise Erdrich.

As the semester advances, all of those students who climb the stairs to give me a scratch hello will become more and more immersed in their work. They’ll crowd around computers, consult with my caregivers, and sometimes…they’ll stress. A mother’s intuition, I suppose, jars me from a comfortable spot in the sun and sends me in the direction of someone needing a reminder of home. A little lean and a loud purr appease most. I find that during times of stress a student just needs a friend to sit quietly by and provide a peaceful presence.

I go where I’m needed. Except, of course, when I am out on one of my hunting excursions. Oh yes, I still love the pounce. And Wesleyan’s beautiful, tree-filled campus, with its wealth of chipmunks and birdies, provides plenty of sport for me. Besides, it gives me great pleasure to occasionally treat my caregivers with a prize chipmunk tail.

Through my many years guarding the library steps, I have seen a thousand students evolve from overwhelmed first-years to confident new graduates. What a pleasure to be a part of their wonderful transformation! (I would say like the baby bird hatches from the egg, but why whet my appetite in the middle of the day?) That’s the life of a library cat: chapters end, new ones begin.