It's a Cat, Cat, Cat, Cat World

>> Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Today Darling Husband and I woke to a surprise.  Our long lost cat, Charlie, has returned from the dead. 

Go ahead, giggle. 

Charlie was Princess's brother, and we adopted them as semi-feral outdoor cats many years ago.  Almost exactly four years ago, Charlie didn't come for breakfast, or dinner, or breakfast, which was very unusual for him.  Sure, he was an outdoor cat, so he wandered, but he always returned, and never stayed away for more than 2 days.  After all, Charlie was a pretty smart cat, and he knew better than to waste a free meal. So when he didn't show up for three days, we had begun to fear the worst.  There was a rash of coyote attacks in our area, and we were worried that poor Charlie had met his end at the hands of a coyote predator.  Now, Charlie was one big cat, so that had to have been one mean coyote, but no matter what happened, Charlie was gone. Even the birds seemed to think so.  When Charlie was alive, those birds stayed up in the trees and only landed in the neighboring land.  Our yard belonged to Charlie, and they knew it.

Now, you might be thinking about feeling sorry for those birds, but I wouldn't bother.  You see, the birds brought their own ostracization on themselves.  They, led by the blue jays, had the funny idea that they should try to gang up on Charlie and repeatedly dive bomb him.  Why?  I have no idea.  I think probably because he liked to lay on the food table so they couldn't have any.  I watched one foolish bird trying this trick one sunny afternoon.  He dove at Charlie, then retreated like a pendulum, then he dove again and retreated again, and then dove again, and retreated again ... you get the idea.  Charlie just watched, and watched, and finally, a picture of utter calmness, Charlie reached his paw up on the next bird dive bomb, and "BOOM," that was the end of the bird.

Shortly after Charlie disappeared, the birds began landing in the yard in huge flocks on their migration south for the winter.  If we needed any more evidence that Charlie was nowhere, we had it now.  Some days it felt the birds got more of the catfood than the remaining cat did.

Yet, last night, Charlie appeared at the table sneaking food, and making Darling Husband feel like he was seeing a ghost.  Even more miraculously, someone had shaved most of his fur.  I am puzzled where he was and why he couldn't come back because, like I said, Charlie was king of the back yard and not one to pass up a good meal.  I am most puzzled, though, about how anyone managed to actually shave him.  That cat wouldn't let anyone touch him unless sedatives were involved, so whoever tried it might have a great deal of scarring to identify them in the future.

So very strange.  Charlie, for all that he was a "no touch" kind of cat, was very devoted to us and seemed to care about us very much.  He and his littermate, Princess, were very attached.  Occasionally they would ask to come inside to sit near the door and watch TV.  Charlie used to love to sit on the back stoop and peer in to see the football game, and if DH didn't come outside to play with him when Charlie wanted, Charlie would deliberately walk up to the back door and turn his back on DH inside, repeatedly until DH got the message and brought the toys outside for Charlie.

And yet, someone shaved this cat.  I can't quite get over this.

I suppose I will shed more on this story as it unfolds, but as for now, we have to be satisfied with an 8 or 9 year old cat returning from the dead after a 4 year absence.  I think that should do, don't you?

On "inside cat news," Girl Cat tells me that there is another mouse or something in the house.  I don't believe her, but she is persisting in telling me there is something worrisome in the corner of the dining room.  There is no hole in the wall large enough to see in that corner, so I don't understand what her issue is, but we all remember what happened the last time Girl Cat worried about a corner.  I am afraid ... very, very afraid.

And then there is Houdini.  He ... um ... okay, there is no way to talk about all that is going on with Houdini without grossing you out.  Moving on.

Big Black Cat may be due for a name change soon too, if things go along the way they have been.  Poor Big Black Cat has never had a very thick coat of fur anyway, but now he seems to be losing his thin layer across his belly.  Darling Husband suspects that Big Black Cat is evidencing male pattern cat-baldness to keep Darling Husband company as he gradually kisses his own hair goodbye.  I guess we'll have to see.  In the meantime, Big Black Cat has been exceptionally needy and permanently attached to my lap every time I sit down.  It's been a great excuse to keep sitting down because, I tell you, that cat is heavy.

Unfortunately, all of this "cat" stuff has been interfering with me doing anything important, like actually writing a funny blog instead of a random set of paragraphs about what the cats have done today.

Oh well.  Better luck tomorrow.


Brenda November 2, 2010 at 12:39 PM  

I love cat stories, 'cause, well, I love cats. But you DO realize this makes you a crazy cat lady, too. I'm sure someone took Charlie in and that's why he couldn't get back to your house for so long. We had a friend who did that - Sydney spent five years inside before he made his escape again. He was out for two years, then made up his mind to go home. Strange.

Okay - word on Big Black Cat. My Siamese has same problem (and my previous Siamese, too). I suspect a dust mite allergy as they both spend time on our very old and very dusty heater vents.

Okay, crazy cat lady, back at it!

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