A Cat Before His Time

Toe Joe was a cat before his time.  He lived on a farm.  He did not like the outside at all.  If a door was left open; or if someone opened the door wide enough, Toe Joe made his attempt to enter the house.   Sometimes he made it and sometimes he didn’t.  If noticed, outside he was tossed always landing on his feet.  But the times he entered unnoticed, he managed to stay hid. The house with many rooms and furniture wall to wall gave him plenty of hiding places.

 My Mother believed that all animals belonged outside.  Of course, no pigs, cow, or other animals would be allowed in the house.  Although the cat and dog did not fit in the livestock category, they were still animals.

 “Cats belong outside,” insisted Mother.  “Stop letting that cat inside!”

 But we didn’t pay it much mind until one day Mother took all she could.  It was the day when Mother discovered something in our spare bedroom.  The telephone was in that room.

 When going in to answer the telephone or to call someone, the door would be left open briefly. A cat hiding already, entered and found a space under the bed to deliver his surprises.  When moving the furniture to rearrange and clean, Mother found Toe Joe’s extremely large litter box. Why hadn’t we smelled it before?  Perhaps he didn’t use his litter box when first entering room.  It apparently had been allowed to air out.  Regardless, it was there.

“I’m getting rid of that cat!” shouted Mother.

 “No!”  We all pleaded.

“I have told you that cats belong outside!”

 Mother was not a bad person.  She would never intentionally physically harm any animal.  And so, back that many years ago, one found an animal a good home.  It seems a lot of people did this safe method of getting rid of unwanted animals.

 “Mrs. So-So likes cats.” Mother said, “And so we’ll give him to her.”

 In the middle of the night, Toe Joe was dropped off at his new home.  About two days later, Toe Joe found his way back to our house.  Mother was furious.

 “That cat won’t find his way here next time.”

 But Toe Joe did.  This time Mother had the solution.

 I’ve heard somewhere that cats can’t find their way back home over water.”  And so, we made a trip across Red River.  We traveled over an old bridge that should have been condemned before I was even born.  I remember it being scary.

 I don’t know where my Mother got her information or how that cat got across that old bridge, but there Toe Joe was meowing at the front door one Saturday night.

 Finally Mother just gave in and said,

 “If you children want to keep that cat, make sure he never gets in the house again.  I don’t plan to clean up after him again,” she paused.  “If I find any more of his surprises in the house, he goes if I have to drive him across the state line.”

 We loved Toe Joe.  We kept watch to make sure he did not get in the house.  I wondered all these years why my Mother didn’t just open a bag of cat litter.  But cat litter didn’t go on the market until 1964.  And then; it took people learning about it.  Toe Joe could have been an indoor cat.  But Toe Joe was a cat before his time.

Alice

This story was written by my 12 year old grandson, Andrew.

Before

After

     

Any cat lover would love this story. I can remember the day we got our cat Alice. Mom decided we would go hiking in Knoxville, TN. Little did we know that we would bring home a cat.
          We were hiking at Ijams Nature Center in the quarry. It was a pretty day even though we thought it was going to rain. My brother David’s legs got tired, so we took a shortcut and walked the railroad tracks back.
          On the way back we found a skinny white-mix cat. She was by some canoes when we found her. Mom said we could keep her if she was still there when we returned with the car. When we drove back, she came to us.
          We had an interesting ride home. She was walking on all the seats. When we stopped for fast food, we shared with her. It’s not often you see a cat eating a hamburger.
          That skinny white-mix cat we found isn’t skinny any more. Alice is a great cat. I feel lucky to have her and I know any cat lover would, too.

Behind the Eight Ball

Inside our den, we had a regulation pool table.  The children saw something in it; although we did not allow them to play pool.   What they saw was a cute name though.  It became obvious when we went in search of a kitten.  There among the litter was a black tabby male cat.   The feature that stood out most on him was his white spot on his neck.  And so; the children named him Eight Ball.  We never got him neutered.  He stayed outside.  He was a male, but seemed to seldom wonder off.  He played with the children.  It was in the early eighties and the subdivision did not have that many strays.  I guess this was an era before they started being abandoned as much.  It was a time before the cat population grew.  Or at least; it did look that way.

It was lunch time and my three children wanted to eat in the garage.  We kept the large garage door open.  The table they would eat on was a yellow plastic table with four chairs.  It was sturdy and so I agreed to bring their food to them.  I even got an invitation to join them as they ate their macaroni and cheese.  Macaroni and cheese was their favorite dish and still is today.  I had no complaints as it was easy to make.  But I declined their invitation and kept busy in the house as they ate.  Once finished eating, back to play they went.

I took no time heading out to clean up behind them.  I was startled by what I saw.  There in the middle of the table where the children had just eaten their lunch laid a snake.  It was motionless; but still very much alive.  I picked up a shovel leaning against the wall close by and somehow managed to get it upon it.  Walking slowly to the edge of the yard, I tossed that thing.  The children, looking on, laughed and together began to speak,  “You came in behind the Eight Ball.”

“I did what?”
           "We saw Eight Ball drop the snake on the table.” 
            I never knew cats would catch snakes.  But when sharing the story with friends, I was told cats do bring owners snakes.  It was a small snake and cats do like those small creatures.  Recently, my son noticed the stray cat Skillet coming across the street to eat food we put out.  Inside her mouth, she carried a small snake.  But when my son crumbled together a bag of treats, she dropped it and came running.  The treats apparently were more appetizing. 

I will never forget that day in that garage when I saw that snake.  I laugh to think, I truly was behind the Eight Ball on that one.

A Cat's Tale

If I could get inside a cat’s head, what I would learn.  For a brief moment, let’s pretend I am inside a stray cat’s head. But it is not just any stray cat.  My name is Fuzzy Wuzzy.   I will now put my every meow to words?  As a human inside a cat’s head, I hope to understand everything Fuzzy goes through? 

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a cat,

Nothing more than that.

Here now begins a tale,

Of this one outside male.

 “I am so hungry today.  I hope someone puts out food for me.  I search for food daily.  I don’t always find.  I have heard from other cats that there’s a lady up the hill that puts out food.  I’ll mosey on up and check her out,” says a weak Fuzzy.

 And sure enough, the lady is putting out food for strays.  There are several bowls.

“Wow, I can have my pick,” exclaims Fuzzy.

There are about ten cats ahead of him.  Unfamiliar with the area, Fuzzy waits and watches.  He is hungry, but still survival sits in.  He must play it safe.  “I’ll wait and if nothing happens to any of them, I’ll make my move.”

            While Fuzzy waits, the lady comes out once more.  She puts out more dry food and fresh water.  With the wet food already out, there’s more than enough to feed them all.  The cats during that time scattered.  They return after she once again enters the house.  Fuzzy stays hid between the corners of a shed just watching.  If there is one thing a stray cat learns, it is to be cautious of any human.  He’ll have to earn your trust.  This lady is on the right track.  She seems kind.  But since a stray cat never felt the human touch as a kitten, he remains wild for now.  One by one each cat finishes eating.  They’re off to clean themselves.

“I’ll eat now,” shouts Fuzzy.”  He crawls ever so slowly to the first bowl of food.  He remains in a slow and crouch position.  He is ready to flee if something unsafe draws his attention.  He constantly is looking over his shoulder.

“Boy, this was some good food,” says a Fuzzy as he licks his lips.  He looks around and to his surprise he sees the lady looking out of the den door.

 “She’s winking her eyes at me,” he says to himself.  “I guess she’s trying to talk to me.  Okay lady, I liked the food and yes, I’ll be back again.”

 Fuzzy crawls off and cleans himself.  After a trip to the outside litter box supplied by Mother Nature, he finds a safe and cozy spot for napping.  Up later from nap finds him roaming.  There are numerous distractions.  A barking dog has a chase commencing with him and up a tree goes Fuzzy.  He remains there until the dog gets bored and goes on his way. He jumps down from the tree always landing on his feet.

 “Ouch!  What was that?”

Two boys home from school are throwing rocks.

            “You go that way and I’ll go that way,” says one boy to the other.  But Fuzzy outsmarts his predators and escapes by running across the street barely being missed by a moving car.  The boys now have lost interest and Fuzzy is free to continue his roaming.  This is usual day for a stray cat.  Every moment is spent using survival techniques.

 Fuzzy returns again in the afternoon to see if the lady has put out more food.  He learns her routine of feeding times twice a day.  As long as the food continues, Fuzzy will become a frequent visitor.  He notices a few cute female cats.  A sniff here and a sniff there and Fuzzy’s offsprings are on the way.

“What have I done with my life?” asked Fuzzy.  “I am a big grey long-haired tabby cat.  I am big in stature; yet slender in weight.  My coat is missing patches of hair. I wash myself and others sometimes assist me.  But yet, I carry debris caught in my hair.  I have fleas.   I really have no regrets; except maybe one.  Although I am independent, I never had the love of a human.  I have had many hardships in my life. Although I will never become an indoor cat, I am seeing a human who may actually love me.  She shows it with every parcel of food put out.  Finally, there’s someone who cares.”

Merry Christmas!

I would like to wish a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my loyal cat readers.   I will submit another story on the weekend of January 4^th through the 6^th.  Again, Happy Holidays from your friend, Teresa

Before The Labeling

There’s a label placed on people who have large numbers of cats.  I never knew this until much, much later in life.  It took a television show and society in general to tell me of this.

 Yes, animal hoarding involves keeping a high number of domestic pets (cats) without having the ability to properly house or care for them.  The lack of sufficient food and water is a common feature of hoarding situations.  If you are handling it all fine, though, then you’re not a crazy person-you’re just crazy about cats.  And there is certainly nothing wrong with that. Before learning of hoarding, had I met a hoarder many, many years ago?  I think maybe.

Here now the tale.  My Mother had three sisters.  Of the four girls, Aunt Bessie was the only one never to marry.  She was the youngest and continued living at home.  It was well into her adulthood that both parents died.  Before that, when growing up and visiting her and grandparents, I never once saw a cat.  What changed her about cats?  Perhaps I can lend a possibility to my story.

 Aunt Bessie was someone that the rest of the family had little to do with.  She had no appealing personality.  She took hours of teasing from siblings, nieces and nephews.  She was a family outcast.

 The miles separated me from this aunt of whom I was never really close.  I did hear the old family house she got in the Will burned to the ground.  Aunt Bessie moved a mobile home on the property.  A forty mile ride on a Sunday afternoon had me pulling into her driveway.  I knocked on the door and an aging woman opened the door.

            “Come in my child.”  She said.

After all those years, she knew who I was.  I walked in and found instantly no place to sit. There was a cat everywhere.  I do recall smelling a strong odor.  It was obvious that Aunt Bessie had an extremely large number of cats.  But it was not my place to put myself in her business and say anything.  I merely suggested we go outside to look at her flowers.                    

When outside, I thought it would be a conversation about flowers.  I started it with,  “I remember the roses always around the old house.  They were so beautiful and smelled so good.”

But Aunt Bessie had something else on her mind.  The discussion led to her asking for money. “My sisters won’t help me.” She said.  She led me to believe she really needed money.

Before leaving, I handed her a fifty dollar bill.  It wasn’t a lot as I myself was going through a divorce.  Aunt Bessie would call my house afterwards asking for money.  I had given her my number in case of emergency.  I told my Mother eventually about it.

 “You’re giving her money to feed all those cats,” Mother said in disgust.   

It was not long afterwards, I heard Aunt Bessie passed away.  She was the first of the four sisters to pass away.  I really believe Aunt Bessie took comfort in her cats.  When people did not have time for her, her cats always did.  They listened and did not give unwelcomed feed-back.  She gave them love.  It is no doubt they gave it to her.  How many cats are too many?  Aunt Bessie gave and got from them.  They gave and got from her.  It may not have been too many at all.

I never knew whatever happened to the cats after Aunt Bessie passed away.  It was quite obvious to me that no family member took them.  To many, those cats were seen as abused.  But I don’t see it.  There are so many cats out there that never know any love at all.  Aunt Bessie’s cats were not among them.  Was Aunt Bessie a crazy cat woman-or just crazy about cats?  I like to think that she was just crazy about cats.