And the rest of the day.


This morning I got the possum packed up for Tom to take into the rescue people.
Sent Sarah in to morning class, fussed around at home, and took off at 10:50 to get gas in the car on the way to pick up the kid at 11:15, and drive her through the tunnel to Walnut Creek for Pilates.

So I pull in to get gas, and as the car slows there's a loud, whiny noise, loud enough to get the lady inside giving me a dirty look.
So I get out and try to look harmless (noise? moi?), fill the car and start to leave.
Car won't really go into gear, continues to make a variety of noises, stops pretty much ten feet along.
(In a parking space. Volvos are like that. Like when the alternator died on that looong stretch of 5 where there's nothing for about 45 miles? It rolled to a stop at a call box.)
Sarah is going to be standing out on the curb in 15 minutes, there is no phone there, and the building closes behind them after the morning class.

So I called Enterprise, and they got me picked up, did the paperwork, and had me out the door in TWELVE minutes.
I got there before Sarah got out.

Of course then I had to drive an SUV to Walnut Creek and back, and it was completely yucky.
It was also the last rentable vehicle they had, because it's spring break.
But it was like driving a school bus.
No turning radius, lousy visibility back and sides, and difficult to see around the corners of the car in general.
Really scary to drive and not be able to see easily.
Ugh, ugh, ugh.

Anyway, I got my car towed to the garage (transmission? clutch? we'll see.)
Got Sarah to her afternoon ballet.
Got the hideous vehicle turned back in, and got a ride home.

There's a catfight on the front porch.
Motley and a big white cat I've never seen are singing opera to each other by the cat door.
Henrietta and Wolfgang are a little farther back, providing moral support, but also getting in the way of the stranger's exit.
I go in, pick up Motley (he hates fighting and doesn't mind my interfering), and move him out of the way.
Shoo the Hen and Wolfie further away, and allow the white cat to leave.
And everyone to seriously unfluff.

But the guy won't go.
He's completely hanging out, and trying hard to come into the house.
Incredibly friendly.
Finally we put a little dry food out, and took a good look at him.
He didn't have a collar, but wasn't skinny, and wasn't really hungry, but he was very grubby.
Takes him about two hours to finally decide to just head (I hope) home.
So, how do you tell if a cat has a home?

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5 responses to this post.

  1. White cat got you to feed him, right? I bet that trick works on all the neighbors too…. sooo I wouldn't worry (too much) about whether HE has a home… – I just found out that the "wild" cat I feed every day (Suerte) gets food at least two other places too… he's still skinny and moth-eaten.. but he's def. not starving although he howls and makes you feel horribly guilty if you're late with the handouts…


  2. Cats are such great manipulators!We did have one old guy who showed up at our house who was literally starving to death. He was a barn cat from down the road where the idiots decided they didn't want to attract racoons with catfood, so they just stopped feeding their barncats. Idiots.Erwin was a bag of bones, and he was starving for affection. He would snarf a mouthful of food, come over and rub and purr and meow with his mouth full, whilst chewing, go get more food, come back for more petting. Happily he has lived the good life now for five years. He is nearing the end though. He looks about a zillion years old, poor guy.


  3. I think the grubby factor makes it seem like he has no one owner. He's a Chaucer…roaming the hood (and getting people to feed him). If you can catch him, take him to a vet to look for a microchip. If there is none, clean him up and take him in if you have the means. I think cats like that eventually get tired of the roaming life and want to stay put. We had one when I was a kid. He "lived" with a lady down the street who named him Chaucer because of his roaming nature and then he decided to come live with us 'til the end. The lady was accepting of this because she knew it was his nature to decide where to live. Very weird. Anyway, that'd be a good name for this kitteh, too.


  4. Well I'm keeping an eye out for him, and I'm going to ask around.Could be he's someone's pet who has a roaming nature — Jose who lived in back had many friends.And my Orange Cat when I was a kid had a whole secret life with a woman down the street — he'd walk me to the school bus, then go spend the day with her, then come home at night.When we discovered this the other lady got all mad at me (?), and tried keeping him in, but he just ran off to us.Or he could be a homeless gentleman cat who visits an established route for meals pretending to be an established cat, but really living nowhere.We had one of those for a while. I think he had four of us who fed him, but he wasn't anyone's cat.Then he started to die, and he moved in with us for end care.Or he could be lost or abandoned, and wanting people soon.This is a student neighborhood, and sometimes they are just utterly irresponsible and move off leaving cats.(But mostly they are great, sweet, and caring. It depends.)In any of these cases I'll still feed him when I see him.(But I can't just leave food out, or we start the possum thing happening again.)And if he keeps coming round, we could have a cat.(Sigh) I'd been hoping for an actual kitten next, but if this guy needs us, he gets us.Lauri – I'm glad Erwin came to find you. (And double "idiots" on that one.) He sounds like a great cat.


  5. I love these stories. Cat people telling cat stories. Wonderful. Don't even get me started. I'll never stop. So much I want to comment to in the above thread. Must resist for now. You're all great.


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