Saturday, October 1

Cat Man Due

We are no closer to being feline free than we were a month ago. We've been asking all our friends if they want to be foster parents. So far... no luck.

We have a schedule. The Skinny Italian aka Cat Man shows up every morning at 6am after a night of kitty carousing that includes lots of cat fights and mauling mice. After a little warm milk, a bowl of cat crunchies and a bit of heavy petting, he curls up and sleeps on the ottoman on the porch until 5pm. Then after nuzzling and more cat crunchies, he's off for the night. It's gotten to the point that Senor leaves the door slightly ajar for him... Not quite Motel 6, but close.

The Cat Man is a really beautiful specimen: long-limbed like a cheetah with little feral tips on the ends of his extremely sensitive ears. And as for being the spook of late summer... he is now the friendliest of beasts. Really sweet and insistently affectionate. Still, he startles at sudden noises and has lethal claws that can do a lot of damage even when he's playing. He wouldn't be good around small children or anyone foolish enough to try physical play with him without wearing evening length oven mitts.

I can't take him to a shelter because he would be utterly miserable in a cage. He would probably have a mental breakdown and totally become an attack cat. Then he'd have to be euthanized.

I wonder when he had his last rabies shot and wish I knew a vet who made house calls.

If the porch door is closed, he hangs around until I come home. I've caught him waiting at every door, patient and determined. Once this week he was lying in the middle of the driveway, colored fiery orange in the long light of late afternoon. He was watching for my car.





Did I mention that Cat Man is smart? Even Senor, who is not overly fond of anything on four legs, seems taken by the Cat Man. This morning, while I was making an omelet, I found an enormous bug tap dancing on the inside sill of the window above the sink. I asked Senor, who was standing near the door to the porch, to move the critter outside.

"I don't want to wake the cat."

From his lips to your ears. I'm still laughing. I think I'll nominate Senor for the St. Francis Medal of Honor.



1 comments:

  1. I think you've been chosen and there is nothing you can do about it.

    ReplyDelete