82. Polly the Warehouse Cat


This toy cat lives at Ai Ai’s house. If you watch it closely it “breathes” since it’s supposed to add to the realism – eewwww!

I have recently renewed my interest in exercising on Polly, my elliptical machine.  I purchased her right before I got my first job then largely ignored her for the following 10-ish years, so she died of neglect and the console no longer lights up and measures your time/distance.  Oh well – it’s okay with me.  E&R moved Polly to the dining room to make room for my bed when we first came home, and when I was ready to try her out after many months later I found that it was definitely taxing but it was also a welcome change from Cliff the treadmill in that I didn’t have to lift my feet up, I could move my arms while still holding on to the handles, and the motion is largely manual, meaning that if I stop moving so does Polly – I don’t have to press a button to stop the motor.

So I gradually built my time up from 10 minutes to 20 minutes this past summer.  I did so in 1-minute increments, sweating profusely the whole time.  Now I do my warm up on the treadmill for 5 minutes then go see Polly for 25.  I think my body is sorer than it would be otherwise, but I feel that it’s good for my grand plan for increasing my stamina.

I chose the name, “Polly,” because I’ve liked it for years.  I think it began when my cousin JE told me there was a cat living in their warehouse.  We called her, “Polly the warehouse cat.”  (The T’s have a wholesale food company, so there’s a warehouse that stores all the food.)  The thing that was attractive about Polly (and I’m not even naturally drawn to pets) is that she invited sympathy from the beginning.  She was a real live stray that began showing up regularly and tried to make herself useful around the warehouse.  Pretty soon she was a fixture there and I looked forward to hearing stories about the stray kitty that was now part of the family.  She even feasted on frozen duck from the warehouse stores – not nabbed, mind you, but chopped up and served to her.

There’s a new warehouse, now, and I haven’t heard about Polly in years, but I obviously still think about her.  Mommy laughed hard when I told her about the origination of Polly’s name because we hadn’t mentioned “Polly the warehouse cat” in eons but she knew exactly what I was talking about and was surprised I still remembered her.

I suppose what’s memorable about Polly is that she was a bit of an outcast but she found a happy home with the band of people working in the warehouse.  She probably didn’t think she’d find a home like that, but she did.  It gives me hope for the underdog/cat in all of us.