Death from Above - A "Midnight" Story

This is a story about the cat who adopted us. His name is Midnight and he gets into all kinds of stuff he shouldn’t. For instance, there are several “strays” on my street; and even some “housecats”; but Midnight is the only one among them who can actually claim to have flown. Not once; but twice.

Now, there may be a cat somewhere in the neighborhood that has been “transported” via plane while locked in a cat carrier; but that hardly qualifies as real flying. Midnight has actually flown; although his 2 flights were mostly freefall. Let me recap those adventures and explain the picture above, which is the result of his 2nd; and latest; “solo.”

Midnight’s first flight occurred in the middle of the afternoon. He was traversing the open area in back of our house; which is about the length of two football fields; when a large shadow loomed over him; and then; in an instant; lifted him off the ground; higher than he had ever been.

A hawk had been circling overhead, and with his infra-red, heat sensing capabilities, said hawk spotted Midnight and came roaring down to snatch him up for a meal. Luckily we feed him too much; he is very spoiled; and so the hawk was unable to hold him for more than about 200 feet horizontally, and about 40 feet vertically. Midnight was very spooked by the whole thing and I have to say that he put up as much of a fight as one can while being suspended by the scruff of your neck 40 feet in the air.

In the end his first flight lasted about as long as the Wright Brothers did at Kitty Hawk. The only real difference is that I had no camera at hand. Midnight suffered a torn ear which has never really healed properly; causing him to have a very strange “meow” as a result of some hearing loss. Doesn’t matter; he still lets us know when he’s hungry. He just doesn’t play in the back anymore.

Now; as for the picture above; we are actually only guessing that this latest injury was the result of another “air raid.” We’re basing that premise on the fact that if it wasn’t a bird which attacked him, then it would have to have been a very large coyote; about as big as a Great Dane; or a bear so weak that when he bit Midnight’s head he didn’t quite break the skin; just ripped off all his fur and left two white patches of skin, which have swelled a bit. I’m betting on the hawk.

Midnight’s reaction to this latest outrage has been pretty interesting. He came home and ate a tremendous amount of food; which is not all that unusual when he has been out all night. Then he went to sleep; waking up to be sick. He actually left the garage so as not to make a mess. “Bless his little heart”; as we say here in Dixie. Then he wouldn’t eat for a day or so, before disappearing again; with Sue and I thinking he had gone off somewhere to die.

Well, I guess we were wrong; or maybe it was the fact that we bought him a new bag of food and some tuna, betting against the odds that he wouldn’t return. At any rate, he came home the next day; along with his appetite. And we were really glad to see him.

He depends upon us for so much. He doesn’t know how to kill or hunt. He watches birds take the food from his bowl. He plays with grasshoppers; swatting them with his closed paws; gently prodding them so that they will hop. He’s basically helpless. So, he really needs us to survive. And when he’s gone; we realize how much we need him, too. I wish he could read this, just to know how important he has become…

Midnight the Hood Ornament

Few things in life give me as much pleasure as Midnight; our resident stray. It doesn't take too much to make him happy. Just some food and a bit of brushing. Oh, and sitting on the hood of the car when the engine is still warm. He likes that.

And, when not being a hood ornament, he likes to lay in the sun and stretch out for a spell. It doesn't matter how I feel about it anyway; he just rolls over and goes back to sleep.

Midnight and the Grasshopper

Midnight has been hanging around our house for a bit over 2 years now. He has weathered the heat of 2 summers, along with the biting cold of 2 winters. Honestly, I don’t know how he does it. Basically, he’s homeless and relies upon Sue and I to provide him with the dry food and tuna fish on which he subsists. He has no instinct when it comes to killing something to eat, so I am locked into this relationship with him. After all, it was I who fed him in the first place. What’s that saying about “if you save someone’s life you are responsible for it?” Well, I’m living it.

Midnight makes friends very easily. He has no one except for me and Sue to play with; meaning that he’s pretty much on his own. So, he has some unusual friends for a cat. There’s this grasshopper for starters; which he enjoys swatting with his paw. Notice how his claws; which are not trimmed; are curled in so he can play with his friend without inflicting any damage. No matter though, the grasshopper is free to hop away at any time, leaving Midnight to search for it in the bushes. He also plays with the little green frogs in this same manner.

Then there’s the matter of the birds; with whom he has become overly friendly; allowing them to eat from his dry food bowl, and even take some home with them; while he sits, or lays, only inches away watching them come and go like planes at JFK. He knows more food is coming, and besides, he doesn't pay for it. But even if he did he would probably still share his food with his feathered friends. I think he’s hoping that they will someday teach him how to fly.

Here he is, looking for a cricket in the thicket...

Me and My Shadow

This is me and my shadow, Midnight, my local stray cat who adopted me almost 2 years ago, out on a walk. We've been doing that lately, taking short walks together in the evening. It’s a bit complicated for him, as the other people who live in the neighborhood are usually all walking their dogs at that hour. Midnight is not on a leash, so he is free to scram if he feels in any danger.

Funny part of it all is that I when I stop to talk to neighbors who are walking their dogs, Midnight is right there at my feet; looking warily at the dog; but trusting me to protect him. Good thing he doesn’t have a leash and can run fast. I’m about 130 pounds; on a good day; so most of the dogs around here outweigh me!

Walking the cat is a new experience for me, and I gather for others as well. Midnight is more like a dog than a cat, mostly due to being a stray and dependent on me for his food I think. But he is loyal, and we have sat out quite a few storms together lately. He’s terrified of thunder; while the prospect of flooding from the creek across the road worries me. So, on rainy days we’re likely companions. He thinks I will save him, and he’s probably right.

So, now that we have taking a walk down fairly well, I can start training him to bring me the morning paper. After almost 2 years, it’s about time he started to earn his keep.

Midnight Wakes

This is Midnight sleeping in what I call the "Galloping Horse" position. It means he is warm and feels safe enough to be sound asleep. The fact that he feels this way about my front porch makes me very proud, and happy. I can always count on him to be there when I get up from my mid-morning nap; he naps at about the same time that I do. But he stays out late at night, so I let him sleep until around noon.

And this is Midnight as he becomes aware of my presence. He used to simply jump up and run away; like greased lightning; but that was a while back. We have settled into an easy routine with one another, and he even trusts me enough to let me brush him with a corn broom. (I can't use a regular hair brush due to my allergies to him.) All in all, it's a nice friendship. Except for one thing;

I don't know whether this is a typical cat "yawn", or if he is just trying to tell me to go away and leave him alone. Perhaps it's the "roar of the jungle", which still runs in his veins...

Midnight

Midnight has been hanging around our house for about a year and a half now, with no signs of ever leaving us completely. Sure, he goes “missing” for a day or two from time to time, but he always manages to make his way back to our front porch and his preferred meal of chunk light tuna fish. His dry food bowl is always full, for those times when he arrives “home” at 3 in the morning, reeling from a night of carousing.

But, most importantly, Midnight has become my friend, at a time when real friends have grown increasingly scarce. I live in a kind of insular world; a way, I suppose, of protecting myself from others. Midnight is much the same as I am in this respect. He has few friends, but the ones that are there for him, really are there for him.

I'm highly allergic to cats; just as Midnight is allergic to most human beings; which makes him the "purr"fect pet. (Forgive the pun – Midnight couldn't resist it.) Occasionally he walks into the house, though never venturing further than the front hallway rug. He seems to sense that there is a boundary there. Well, actually he knows better than to come in at all, but every now and again curiosity gets the better of him, and so in he comes. He hasn't heard about curiosity killing the cat and I’m not going to be the one to tell him!

I like his spirit and even his aloof attitude, which he recently displayed toward my wife Sue when he simply turned his back and walked away from her when she was offering him a treat. Sue has still not gotten completely over the snub, and I’m still laughing.

But even deeper than all the social interaction between us is a darker connection; he was abandoned by the human family where he was born. He just appeared suddenly one day; homeless; with no skills to survive in the “world.” Kind of like me when I was about 17 and my parents threw me out. But, just as I did, he has learned to survive, and in some ways even prosper. In that last respect he may already have overtaken me, as I still pay for my own food. But he earns his keep.

Every time he pokes his face up against the little side window on the front door he makes me smile. No matter what is happening at the time, in that brief flicker of a moment, he can make me smile. We're fiends; he cares; and that’s all he ever has to do to make a living here.

The Cat House

Midnight, our resident stray, has a new home. After over a year of trying to make him comfortable; while at the same time taking care of my own allergic reactions to him; he finally has a better home than he did for the last winter. At that time he was living in our garage on an old bedspread with a heating pad to help him keep warm. This year the heating pad will be located at one end of his wicker home, and connected to a timer, which will offer him a few options in relation to how much heat he actually wants.

It’s been a year in which we have come to know one another a bit better, each respecting the others limitations and idiosyncrasies more than we first did. For instance; I now know that he strikes me with his paw as a sign of affection after I stop playing with him; while he has learned to not use his claws on me. Since he does live outdoors I cannot have his nails clipped, as that would leave him defenseless.

He has also learned not to wander too far from home, stranding himself in other people’s garages without food or water for several days. He has also learned not to cross the big open yard in back of our house which makes him a convenient target for the many hawks in the area. Last year he was actually swept up by one of these aerial predators. It was a short flight which left his ear damaged from the hawk’s talons. It actually changed the pitch of his “meow.”

The new home is of wicker construction, and was acquired by Sue at a yard sale for less than one dollar. I had already purchased a “cat bed” for him, complete with catnip, but he just kind of looked at it in a curious manner. He never even tried to lie down in it.

By contrast, from the moment Sue bought this wicker palace home, Midnight was very much interested in it. There is even a sun roof for him on top to use on nicer days. Currently, we are furnishing the inside, using Snoopy's doghouse as a guide for what Midnight might like. A small pool table is not out of reach; and a transistor radio or tummy TV is certainly affordable. But the Van Gogh is definitely out.

"Midnight's Blues"

“Midnight’s Blues”

CFG
I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
But it’s past 12:30
And he still ain’t home.

I got your can of tuna
Waiting by the door.
I got your can of tuna
Waiting by the door.
I’d gladly feed you baby
If you’d come home once more.

FC/ G
Seen you in the moonlight slinking around
Seen you in daytime sleeping so sound.
Seen you in the sunshine and out in the rain
I just wish you’d come home again.

CFG
I seen you down the street
With the big white cat
I seen you down the street
With the big white cat.
I don't care who you been with,
I just want you to come back.

I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
I got a cat named Midnight
He just loves to roam
But it’s past 12:30
And he still ain’t home.

Midnight - The Community Cat

We have grown accustomed to feeding the community cat, "Midnight", aka "Meow", and have reported here on his wanderings before. Along with Sue and I, our neighbors have been pretty good at letting Midnight come and go wherever, and whenever, it pleases him. He just doesn't get to live indoors. C'est la vie. In return though, he has a sense of independence which is unknown to all of the other "house cats" in the neighborhood; you know the type; the ones with the cute little "cat" doors on the back porch. They don't have to worry about where their next meal is coming from. They have it made, and they know it, too.

Midnight, on the other hand, has no escape door, no refuge; save for the few wits he does seem to possess; and yet he has managed to survive the winter relatively unscathed. He has left our garage now, with its heating pad and blanket, opting instead for our neighbor Linda's wicker front porch sofa. And now, he has stumped us all by taking his afternoon "cat naps" in her earth filled pot, which sits next to the sofa. We can only surmise that after watching the birds nesting, his paternal instincts have kicked in, and he is patiently "nesting" on his own, just as they do. They sit for a few days, and when they get up, little birds fly out, so why not kittens? It sounds stupid, I know. But, absent any other explanation I'm going with this one for now. I'll let you know what happens, or not, as soon as it does, or doesn't.

Midnight / Meow

Depending on the mood, or time of day, or disposition, our resident stray cat answers to several different names. We originally named him Midnight, for obvious reasons. He seems to be a typical tom cat, preferring to roam about, as the song says, "After Midnight." At other times, when he is not busy licking himself, or rolling around on the porch, we call him Meow, which he seems to prefer.

Truth be known, he doesn't understand a word that either Sue or I say to him. He just looks up and goes "Meow", which can mean a variety of things to a cat. I think it's actually the only word in their spoken language. So, communication has not been too difficult to manage with Midnight/Meow. Until the other day, when he came home looking like this.

I'm not sure where he went the other night, but when I woke up in the morning and went to the garage to check on him - this is what he looked like! There must be a punk rock club nearby somewhere, or else this is a protective disguise that scares away all of the other animals out there at night. Even the hawk which took him on his famous, but short, flight last year, now refuses to let him board.

The spiked look didn't last too long, just about a day or so. I kind of felt like I did when my daughter was 14 and colored her hair blue. Amused, but with a twinge of embarrassment. At least I didn't have to take him to the mall! But then, when I thought it all through, I realized that it's his hair and he has the right to wear it any way he pleases. I just prefer it a natural black.

Midnight - My Halloween Cat

Midnight is all set for Halloween. With a pumpkin and broom for company, he is a welcome, and distinct, addition to our holiday decor. He has adapted nicely to the change in weather, opting to live down the road by the storm drain culvert, where it is relatively warm. Coupled with meals at our place, he seems to be healthier, and more playful, than when he adopted us a few months ago.

The shelters here are all full, and no-one seems to want him, so I guess he's mine now. It's kind of cool to have him greet Sue and I when we arrive home, and with his distinctive "Meow", there is no mistaking his presence. And, just like me, he enjoys talking, although I have not yet mastered his language. No matter, he enjoys talking, and loves to have his head scratched while he does.

So, tonight he will be with us at the front door, giving out candy. He gets his cut, though. Before he goes "home" each evening, I give him some microwaved canned liver, or chicken. And, if he's been especially helpful, he gets real people tuna fish.

Well, have a safe and fun Halloween. There's only a sliver of moon tonight, so it will be especially dark and scary. Wear something bright, and be safe!

Addendum:

It's now almost 8 PM and the crowd of kids is thinning out. Here is an assortment of some of the kids who came to haunt us - and left with chocolate....

A Pirate and a Princess....

2 Princesses with a Mummy for protection....

2 girls from down the street....

2 boys from down the street. I love the jester cap. Quasimoda lives!