September 30th, 2008
|09:40 am - cat you is dum|
Got an email yesterday while at work. "We think Abbie may have gotten out again. There was a plumber who came to check the boiler and he left the doors open but he didn't see a cat go by, and we didn't see the cat go near the basement door. He ran upstairs when the plumber first came in but we haven't seen him since."
Happened at 1:30. Email went out at 3:30.
I came home at 5:30. Went upstairs. He's probably chilling on my bed or under it. Not on the bed. Not under the bed where he usually chills. I go down to the basement. He's not in the basement and not on the back porch and not in his usual hidey spots.
Disconcerting. I eat dinner, which is a tasty burrito. I make sure the cat knows that I Am Eating A Tasty Burrito and It Is Very Delicious and It's A Good Thing The Cat's Not Around Because He'd Sure Want In On This Delicious Burrito Action.
No sign of the little bugger.
I go back upstairs and, behind a closed door, begin to scream and holler and work up a lather something fierce. I cuss the stupid plumber, that goddamned no good door-leavin-open sign-not-readin cat-lettin-out sonofabitch. I am very frustrated because I do not want to see another search-n-rescue operation and the cat picks the best proper times to pull this and GODDAMMIT THE PLUMBER SHOULD HAVE JUST CLOSED THE FUCKIN DOOR IS THAT SO HARD TO ASK I MEAN SERIOUSLY PEOPLE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS A NO-BRAINER GNAAAAAAARGH.
Decide to read a little to calm down. There is a rustle from the bed. From the other side of the bed. From the side that usually has too much junk under it for the cat to go. I check that side. There is the cat. He looks at me and goes "What?"
"What?" Dude, you just hid under a bed for nearly 6 hours. People callin for you, making click-click here-kitty sounds, wavin food around to give you the scent, even actually COOKING in the kitchen so you'd come down begging for something. Don't you "what" me.
Relieved nonetheless that he's not outside poopin on petunias, I go downstairs and grab some ice cream while I watch funny television situation comedies. Mr. Bedhider trots on down shortly afterwards and then jumps on my lap and tries to wheedle some ice cream out of me, or the spoon, or the container.
Oh no you don't. I only bribe cats with people food when they're MISSING. Cat eventually curls up on the sofa and stretches out across my legs and sighs a big deep happy cat sigh before going back to sleep.
He's very lucky charm trumps dum when it comes to cats.
Thank God for that.
I wonder why he didn't want any of the burrito?
Because he was making a point.
That point was, "Who the hell let that large, annoying stranger into MY house without my permission? He was making alarming noises and no one stopped him! I had to hide."
Not even cheese or meat or tuna can deter a cat from Making A Point.
I think that when they realise people are trying too hard to get them to come out, it makes them want to hide even more. It probably means medicine or claw-trimming or something.
i was worried. that was the most vulgar spatchelpost i've ever seen!
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 02:42 pm (UTC)|| |
Apparently Mr. The Cat wants to drink whenever someone plays I Never and says "I never gave Spatch a coronary."
Or maybe he's just an ornery old cuss.
Two of the cats respond viscerally to the sound of the can opener--I don't know if enough cans get opened in the Spatch household to trigger that sort of Pavlovian response in Mr. The Cat.
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 05:10 pm (UTC)|| |
When I have opened cans and he was around, I don't think he ever came running at the sound. But if he's in the same room, he's very clear on the concept that A Can Is Being Opened, and will beg piteously for things like soup and beans. Abbie likes beans a lot. (I haven't ever given him more than a taste, since I don't know, and don't want to find out the unpleasant way, what they'd do to his digestion.)
Actually, I suspect he just thinks anything from a can must be good food, so I shouldn't conclude anything about what he actually thinks of beans in general.
Edited at 2008-09-30 05:13 pm (UTC)
I think cats are so accustomed to eating various bean-sized nuggets of cat food, the idea of eating beans (especially if they've got some smoke flavoring) is second nature to them.
However, between tuna and canned cat food, the can opener is a siren's song to most cats.
You know, I walked past your house the other day and the outer front door was hangin' wide open. My first thought was "Abbie's out!" and I came up the front walk a bit. The inner door was closed, so rather than risk the neighbors wondering Why TF I was closing their door, I figured it was okay to leave it as is.
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 05:35 pm (UTC)|| |
Yeah, the front door doesn't have a lock or anything, but its often left open. Shouldn't be a problem as long as the inner door is closed and I tend to close the outer door if I'm opening the inner door creating a kind of airlock.
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 06:17 pm (UTC)|| |
I really want to screen & door the back stoop, so we have a back door airlock to match the front door one. Our cats have started lurking by the door and running out when I come home at night.
Once upon a time when my elderly cats were young, the liked to climb up the screen door like little flies. Little flies that made a loud THUMP when they dropped back to the ground because they were unable to turn around at the top. Young Fat Cat, whose feet do not leave the ground when she jumps, recently decided she is a fierce and secret outdoor cat (unless there's something scary) and has learned to climb the wooden privacy fence. I wonder if she would climb screen doors too.
That Abbie cat sure is tricky.
Glad to know all is status quo.
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 06:28 pm (UTC)|| |
charm trumps dum when it comes to boys sometimes.
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 10:06 pm (UTC)|| |
I find that it often also trumps crazy.
Heck, sometimes crazy is the charm.
|Date:||September 30th, 2008 11:36 pm (UTC)|| |
Abbie, you are a Naughty Boy!
*slips him some icecream on the side*
|Date:||October 2nd, 2008 04:13 pm (UTC)|| |
I had a similar scary moment on Wednesday with Julian. Ended pretty much exactly the same way, except he was in a closet.
(Insert your own Mike-Birbiglia-esque gay cat joke here, if desired)