Midnight and the Great Pumpkin

Every year at this time Midnight gets a bit nervous. The appearance of the Pumpkins is his first clue that something major is about to happen. Then the Witches and Goblins appear, followed closely by the dreaded Trick or Treaters, who completely baffle him. He usually hides just out of sight to watch this annual parade of the dead and undead. He sees lots of things going into their sacks, but nothing ever comes back out. That is frightening to him.

Midnight is an asset to my blog. He gets fan mail. Really! And these people expect answers to their notes. Most of the time I answer for him, as his paw printing is still not what it should be. He is, after all is said and done, a stray. And getting him to attend school on a regular basis is somewhat akin to trying the same thing with Huck Finn; that is; it’s just not going to happen. So I write something nice and just affix his paw print to it before sending it on.

But, for all of his skittishness concerning the Halloween ritual, he is always back at his post, sitting on the porch at about midnight; the hour for which he is named; waiting, like Linus, for the arrival of the Great Pumpkin. It hasn’t happened yet, but when it does Midnight intends on being there to greet him.

Friday the 13th

Due to the possibility of something going amiss for the 13^th, I have elected to post the following, which has no value or purpose, meaning that perhaps nobody will stop by here today. So, good luck, don’t walk under any ladders and don’t let my black cat, Midnight, cross your path. As a matter of fact, I will be spending a good portion of the day avoiding him just to be safe.

Superstition may be just that, superstition. But mix it in with a few coincidences and you have what seemingly become facts.  So, I neither flaunt, nor embrace superstition. I do my best to ignore it. That’s why I’m not posting today; because I don’t believe that anything will go wrong. It’s just that sometimes I get this funny little feeling…

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.

Midnight - Cat Napping at Noon

This is Midnight, doing what he does best, which is sleeping. That is when he's not eating. It's a lazy day with just a hint of Spring coming and he knows it. Gone are the cold winter nights and the chill of the days. This is life as it was meant to be lived; curled up, dead to the world; basking in the relative warmth of the afternoon.

It's not easy being a cat; especially my cat. He never gets to come inside; no pun intended, as he is a real life "tomcat"; he has no real friends and is always on the lookout for the coyotes and other airborne predators which inhabit the same world as he does. We have reached a mutual understanding, with respect for one another's quirks. He has come into the house a few times; but just as quick as Huckleberry Finn could shuck a pair of shoes, he was gone. His favorite song has got to be "Don't Fence me In."

I'm terribly allergic to cats, and do all I can to stay away from them. But this guy captured my heart about a year and a half ago when someone abandoned him and he needed to be fed. The neighbors all warned me, but I wouldn't listen. No matter, I needed a friend. And each morning; although he still does not bring me my paper; he is at the door waiting for his tuna, having eaten all his dry food during the earlier hours. And each morning I fill it back up.

About 9:30 we both take a nap; he sleeps on the porch while I retire to the bedroom. And when I wake up, he is almost always awake and waiting for me to brush his fur with a corn broom. That's about as close as I can get to petting him. But through the handle of that broom Midnight and I have formed an unlikely bond. He depends upon me to feed him; I just depend upon his being there. And you know, we never let one another down.

Midnight and the Great Pumpkin

 

Midnight will be celebrating his second Halloween with us this year. He is eagerly awaiting the arrival of the neighborhood children, dressed as ghosts and goblins. He’s not really sure what it’s all about; and I think all the commotion kind of scares him a bit; but he does take an active interest in the proceedings. He will be found; I’m sure; waiting in the bushes, alternately leaping out to frighten someone, or just to check them out. He is especially partial to Princesses and Pirates.

And, when all the tricksters have retreated from the street, you will find him patiently awaiting the arrival of the Great Pumpkin; who will undoubtedly treat him to a can of salmon as a reward for being so brave on a night when black cats generally make themselves scarce.

"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.

Update: Midnight - Rooftop's Cat

A quick update on Midnight, or "Meow", as he prefers to be called, the cat who seems to have adopted us as his benefactors for the winter, and maybe longer! All of the shelters, which are of the "no-kill" variety, are full, etc. And, of course, nobody seems to want him, as in, "My other cat may not like him" etc. So, he has definitely taken up residence with us for the winter. He doesn't want to use the community "cathouse" a neighbor has provided down the street, either.

Naturally, he gives us moments of high drama, as in the little episode a few weeks back, when he was snatched and taken for a short flight by one of the many large hawks which abound in our area. But, I feed him rather well, and he has gained weight, so the hawk couldn't hold him. The good news is that the drop didn't kill him, but the sad news is that the hawk's talons really sliced up his neck and ear a bit. So, we let nature take its course, and he's doing much better now, though he seems to look up a lot more than he used to. Then there was the day and a half he was gone because he snuck into a neighbor's garage as they were leaving for the weekend and the door was closing.

He still can't enter our home, due to my allergies, but, somehow he seems to like it at our place. Maybe it's the warm canned foods he gets on these frosty mornings, along with the warm skim milk in the evenings that keeps him around. And then again, how could any cat resist this cardboard, felt lined, heated shelter in our garage? He seems quite happy with the arrangement, in spite of Sue and I constantly "looking in" on him, disturbing him when he is in deep thought, contemplating the great cat issues of the day, such as, "Wonder how long 'til dinner?” There is nobody, in the entire world, more surprised by my having a cat, than I.

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!