Stupid Cat’s Great Adventure
Ok, so I have cats. Two siamese, to be exact. Of course I can’t have normal cats. No, that would be too easy. These two came from a neighbor who had 7 cats, 3 dogs, and 2 human toddlers. Needless to say, they are definitely not well socialized. We’ve had them for about two years now, and we still can’t get close to them.
Oh, they are healthy and happy enough. They romp and play an explore, are fun to watch, use the littler boxes and never really cause any problems except the occasional hair ball. But we can’t get within 10 feet of them except under extraordinary circumstances. Their names were Jay (the male, he’s the one on the left) and Meg (the female, on the right with the nuclear glowing eyes).
They have now been officially renamed Stupid Cat (SC for short) and Stupid Cat’s Brother (SCB) for short).
Why? Well, it’s like this…
We have a golden retriever who feels that using all litter box is beneath his dignity, and insists on going outside, even in cold weather. So Donna regularly lets him out every morning before she leaves for work. So the other morning she let the dog out, and Meg — excuse me, Stupid Cat, was sitting by the door when she came back in and escaped out into the garage and immediately disappeared into the accumulated mess.
My wife figured she’d get cold (it was about 30 degrees) and come back to the door. I told her she didn’t understand cats. Especially not SC. After two years of observing SC and her brother, one cannot help but come to the conclusion that they are, well, stupid.
Time passed. No sign of the stupid cat. “Oh, she’ll get hungry and come in,” my wife said.
Sure she will.
To make along story short, two days went by with no sign of the stupid cat. It was pretty clear she was NOT going to come out of her hiding place. And it’s cold here, folks. Temperatures dropping into the high 20s at night. And remember these are not farm cats used to cold weather. These are siamese house cats who spend their days huddled over the furnace vents whenever the temperature drops below 70.
So I get my big flashlight and go cat hunting, digging through the assorted junk, behind the motorcycles, under the soda fountain (what, you don’t have a soda fountain in your garage?) behind the old pond liner…
After about half an hour of this, I found what looked like a big lump of dryer lint. Only it was quivering.
Bingo! The oversized dust bunny covered in cobwebs, sawdust and dead spiders was SC!
Now, how to get her out of there? I’d have to move about 4 tons (a conservative estimate) of junk to be able to reach her. So I made use of years of improvisational skills developed by being brought up on a farm and instantly developed a new tool, the “iPoke” (Pat. Pend. soon to be marketed on late night television) digital (well, it’s held by the digits of the hand so it’s digital, right?) Cat Annoying Device!
In other words, a 4 foot long stick.
After liberal application of the iPoke CAD, SC finally became annoyed enough to remove herself from her hiding place and run like a bat out of hell, not for the open door of the house, but to a new hiding place behind an old lawnmower. Further applications of the iPoke CAD were required to get her out of here. Once again she runs right past the open door, to yet another hiding place.
After about half an hour of numerous applications of the iPoke CAD, she finally gives up, cowering behind an old gerbil cage (where the hell did that come from), where I am able to finally grab her and get her in the house.
She then drank all of the dog’s water, ate for ten minutes, and passed out under the bed for the rest of the day.
She is none the worse for her little adventure, but her name has now been officially changed to Stupid Cat. It fits her far better than Meg ever did.
