Posted by
Scottie on Wednesday, February 07, 2007 11:51:35 PM
I have two cats. I don’t know why, I just do. The first cat belonged to one of my boys and he left it here “temporarily” after he moved out. When I threatened to take the cat to the pound to force the boy to fish or cut bait, the Missus adopted the cat as her own. Now we all know that it’s not a good idea to come between a Momma and her cub, so I deferred. I didn’t have a thing to do with the little critter, honest. But over time, he has decided to turn his back on the big-hearted human that saved him, and has slowly won me over. I wouldn’t call it devotion, because cats are not capable of that. But he utterly ignores the Missus and climbs on my lap to sleep while I sit here and blog. He is now my little buddy. I really didn’t choose him, he chose me. Cats don’t have masters after all, they have staff; I seem to have been approved for that position.
As for the second cat critter, I guess I’m just getting soft in my old age. A couple of months ago a little cat slipped into the house unnoticed when the Missus stepped out to check the mail. Of course the resident cat was delighted with his new smaller playmate. I discovered the intruder as the two played a rollicking game of tag throughout the house the following morning. The new cat looked healthy, but had no collar. Later that day, she whined to be let out and I obliged, thinking that was the last of it. She stopped by a couple of times a week and played with our cat for a while, ate her fill from his bowl, and then returned to the great outdoors to continue her routine. As time went on, we noticed that the little vagabond was losing weight, and dropping by more frequently. We’ve kept an eye on the lost and found section of the newspaper, but no one seems to be looking for her.
Well, the last couple of weeks have been bitterly cold with daytime temps in the single digits. Our prodigal houseguest showed up looking the worse for missing a few meals and obviously freezing outdoors. When I went to get the morning paper, her plaintive cries were more than this old hardass could bear, so I let her in despite the agreement I had with the Missus that we shouldn’t let this intruder in anymore. She was awful thin, and not likely to make it through the rest of the week in this ungodly cold weather. So now I have two cats I never wanted. I just ignore them for the most part, feed them in the morning with enough to get them through the day, clean the cat box, and go about my business. I haven’t seen much of my lap buddy lately, but I expect he will return after the novelty wears off. And the little one seems to be making tentative overtures to the Missus, which prompts gushes of maternal doting from her. I grumble occasionally about having not one but two cats I never asked for and the Missus just kisses me on the bald spot on the top of my head and tells me, “You’re a good man, Scottie.” Maybe that’s part of why she wants to marry me.
Scottie