Cat Sitting Bower

Our neighbors, Thomas and Keri, are moving. We've watched their family grow for the past 8 years or so and they'll be taking 2 sons with them that didn't come with the house - Hudson, aged 5, and his brother Owen, aged 3, soon to be 4. Bower, the cat, will also be moving with them.

But, there's about 3 months between closings and Bower will be homeless. So, he'll be living on our porch where Midnight, Baby Cat and Goldie all used to squat.

Bower has a real cool history. He's about 8 and has had shots and all the other things which housecats get to help them live longer than any of my strays could have ever hoped for. And, he's no stranger to the outdoors.

He was born on  a farm and though he knows how to kill, he also knows when to run away, split, scram, be invisible and all the other tricks associated with having 9 lives and making them last!

He's also no stranger to our porch, as he has been coming over daily for about 5 years at this point for treats. He's even walked through our house looking for Goldie after he'd been gone several days and Bower became convinced that Goldie was our secret pet cat and not a real stray at all!

Oh, and did I mention that, like most cats, he's a bit paranoid.

After Goldie passed away I vowed not to care for any more strays. Due to my allergies they need more than I can give them; like a permanent home.

So, this will be like having the best of both worlds for about 3 weeks. Then, just like the rest, he'll move on. The big difference is that this time the story ends well....

My Cat in the Back - A Midnight Tale

I couldn’t believe my ears. Then I heard it again; it was my cat.  There’s nothing too strange about hearing him; except that he NEVER comes in the back of the house. Well, almost never; at least not for about 3 years now. And, he has a good reason.

It was almost 3 years ago that Midnight took his celebrated solo flight attached to the talons of a local hawk. The backyard at that time was not as well developed as it is now, and many of the neighbors hadn’t even planted a tree or erected a fence yet. So, the back was basically on long open field, long enough to land a small plane on. This is exactly what the hawk must have thought when he swooped down and grabbed Midnight.

Midnight has always been well fed, in spite of his somewhat haggard appearance. He has always gotten his tuna twice daily and some dry food is always in the bowl on the porch for him, along with his water. So he has never really been a lightweight. This point was proved when the hawk was forced to abandon his dinner about 3 houses down and 20 feet up. This meant that Midnight was about to go down 20 feet. It’s all relative to where you are at the moment.

So, down he came with a torn ear; the last grasp of the hawk’s talons desperately trying to hold on to his dinner. And, until the other evening, Midnight has refused to go back there again. This is why I was so surprised to hear his distinctive meow coming from beneath an old picnic bench which Sue uses to pot her plants.

He came out when I went to him, but he wasn't keen on hanging around for long. He was there on a mission. He usually comes home for dinner at about 5 o’clock. It was pushing 7 when he finally showed up looking for his tuna. So, he came around the house and caught my ear. Then we both walked back up front for his dinner. But as we crossed the back yard I did notice that he stuck awfully close to both the house and me.

Here is a song by Steve Earle which is probably pretty close to how the hawk feels when he’s up there. It’s from the 2008 album “Washington Square Serenade” by Steve Earle. Midnight generally likes his stuff, just not this song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAmdOPCPu3A

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 - 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.