Lucky Cat

My friend asked me a question about my cat yesterday, that made me think about him a bit more than usual. The thought is quite basal, my cat is alive. He is quite fortunate to be alive. He once traveled 3 miles through the woods from my in-law's house while we were in Europe for 2 weeks. We arrived home thinking he was lost, but he was just starving at home, with no one to feed him. You can read about that super awesome story here.  He was shredded by some dogs, and we super-glued him back together (really, it worked! no vet bills).

X-ray, one of the biggest cats ever.

I got this cat because I hate mice, more than I dislike cats. I don't really like cats, but I HATE mice and rats. I keep a clean house, but was pestered by rodents until 2006 when we got a cat. The mice are gone, and we don't have to put poison or traps out to steer clear of Hantavirus.

The question was, "It seems you just feed your cat, so it doesn't die?"

Which made me check myself.  It didn't take me long to answer yes.  Sadly, yes.  My cat is rather soul-less.  He's a slave to his belly and his own satisfaction (typical cat).  I don't hate him, but didn't even think that I'm solely maintaining a live creature so that he wont die.  I am.  I feed him what he doesn't get from the rodents.  He whines all day so that I might feed him more, he relieves himself in the warm, dry garage, he poops in the flower beds,  and he slithers into our house and into the inner-workings of our couch to hide.

I should move away from maintaining our 'pet', and enjoy him.  I should accept him for his 'cat-ness'.  His characteristics are attributes that turn me off in others, and I HATE in myself: selfishness, gluttony, laziness, dirtiness, hairy-ness, sneakiness, dependence.... It's no wonder I don't like our cat, because I see in him the things I don't like about myself, and I'm allergic to it.

That Darn Cat

This is the cat that I drove to my mother-in-laws house for safe keeping while we were on vacation for 3 weeks. This photo was taken when it was a bit smaller and did it's job of hunting with more gusto. I drove this cat 2o minutes away, out to the highway, down a country road, in a pet carrier. I dropped him off and didn't even think of him until we returned.

When we got home, Martha said that the cat had stuck around about half the time we were gone, and then had disappeared. I felt a bit bad (mostly for the kids), but something in me told me that was not the end of the story. When we arrived at our house, there was X-ray the cat. He was hungry. He walked home through the woods one mile as the crow flies. He had to swim across the Deer Creek to get here. How did he know the way?

Clearly he loves his home, not us, but where he lives. I had heard stories like this before, but never thought that they were real. And I don't have a guilty conscience about a 'missing' cat.

Cat Allergy

Scout, who is five, asked if we could get more cats. We have one mouser who lives outside, and does his job, though complains a bit about it.
We told her that if we got more cats, then grandma can't come over, because she is allergic to cats. Thinking about this for a second, Scout asked,
"Grandma eats cats?"