A cat.

[icarus]

So, oh friends who are knowledgeable about cat politics, what would you advise my father? I've already sent my advice.

A Cat

This began quite innocently.

I've been playing the cat game for years, something I made up one evening's walk back when we lived in Alice, the house. Do you remember Alice? [Editor's note: Yes, my dad named his house "Alice." If you saw the house you'd understand.]

Toronto's beaches community is the kind of place that attracts cat people, and so there are cats prowling all over the place. Some are stand-offish, some gregarious, and others are total sucks. Never mind why, but on one evening's walk I made a game of it, counting two points for a sighting, five points for a touch, and seven if I could cause the cat to come to me and suffer my hand upon it. The record is somewhere under one hundred points.

Last week a very plump tortise shell cat wandered into our back garden and onto the deck. I did my usual cat talk and he (or she, or it) came right to me. I rubbed its head, stroked its ample sides and we had a most satisfying commune. A definite seven. The problem is, the cat won't leave.

It's a well fed cat. There are no signs of abuse or neglect. Good fur. No sense that this is a cat in need of a home.

As I said, we had a very nice visit, and I assumed that the cat would go home when I locked up for the night. Not so. Next morning, cat was still there. Annie didn't help at all, she let the cat in the house. Cat looked the entire place over and gave it it's complete approval. Eventually Annie had to put the cat outside. Note there were no frenzies involved, No hissing or scratching. Just very sad and disappointed cat sounds.

We left for a five day journey down the Hudson River Valley on an art, poetry and food break – one last treat before I become a temporary invalid. [Editor's note: My dad is going in for foot surgery.]

That should have been ample time to discourage any cat, but not this one. Still there, insistent. And the cat has a point: "Hey, you let me in before, why not now? What did I do? What did I say? Is there a problem? Let's talk. I can make some changes, lose a little weight. Come on! Don't just slam the door in my face!"

And now I feel terrible.

This is someone's cat. Why does it prefer to be here? Is it an abandoned kitty? What's going on?

What would happen if we took it in?

Is there any higher complement from the animal kingdom than being chosen by a cat?

Is this hubris of the highest order?

Why won't the cat go away?

All thoughts on the subject will be most welcome.

By the way, the cats name in our household is, Speckles. Because of it's most interesting coat.

I'll note he's already named the kitty.

Comments

[tonicollins.livejournal.com]

It seems that the cat's been abandoned or else it *would* go home. Either take the cat in and make it your own or take it to the local shelter and hope that it has a tracking implant, or that it's owner will show up (unlikely) or that it will be adopted.

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

Yep. He wants this kitty, I can tell. He just doesn't want to steal someone's beloved pet.

Icarus

[wikdsushi.livejournal.com]

Sounds like it's his cat now. I'd call that a ten-pointer.

[icarusancalion.livejournal.com]

LOL! I'll pass that along. He'll enjoy it while he's recovering from surgery. And I like the idea that he'll have a purring kitty to bond with during his convalescence.

Icarus

[tonicollins.livejournal.com]

He won't be. My neighbors moved and abandoned their grandmother's cat of 10 years. One day, last winter, the cat showed up at my back door every morning and evening to be fed and petted. When I called them I got a disconnect message and realized what had happened. I think your Dad can take the cat in with no qualms whatsoever.