When I left home, I moved into a small 3 room cottage. It was sufficient for a single person such as myself, and I went about making it livable.
I got me a dog, Weasel – which I have written about – and I then got me a couple of cats. This story is about how I acquired my first two cats.
I worked at a company where cats kinda got ‘taken’ to – and left. They were kinda wild after a while – and other cats were born – well, you know how it goes.
There was this one cute little female calico kitten – that I would take lunch scraps to – and others would also put out little bowls of milk for.
I started trying to get her confidence – talking to her – and letting her hear my voice. She didn’t ‘trust’ anyone – and it wasn’t easy, but one day, after work, I was able to get her to come close enough for me to ‘grab’ her – barely. She was inside a culvert-type of pipe that went under the sidewalk. I barely had a grip on her – but finally got her to turn loose – and I was able to re-position my grip to the scruff of her neck. Cats always go 'kitten-mode' when you git them there.
I got her to my car, a 1971 VW beetle, and drove home with her. She was a small thing, and was able to adapt rather quickly to her new home. My neighbor, seeing that I had a new cat – also expressed a desire to have one. I told him – ‘No problem’, as there were an abundance of cats where I worked – and I would soon be able to bring home another one.
I had been watching an orange tomcat that I had seen outside. And began to get his ‘confidence’ – talking to him each day. He wanted to be friends… but was just a bit nervous – and wild.
Well, one day, I again stayed after work – and was able to get close enough to nab this half-grown tomcat. He set to bellerin’ and fortunately didn’t scratch me – and I got him by his scruff of the neck and put him into my VW. I was a bit nervous about this one, since he was a bit bigger than the little female that I had previously gotten.
Well, he was also scared, and disappeared under my seat cushion. (I kinda moved my legs forward – just in case he tried to take a swipe at me from under my seat.)
Anyway – I wasn’t too sure where he was – until he let out one of them forlorn cat cries – kinda deep and pitiful – like he was about to die, and didn’t want to. I reassured him by talking to him that he was going to a new home, and he would like it there – and there were lots of things to do there… the usual small talk in a soft reassuring voice.
His response? 'Mrrrooooowwwwrrr!!!' He wasn’t convinced. The drive wasn’t that long – only about 15 minutes to get home – but it musta seemed like a lifetime to this poor tomcat.
When I got home, I opened the car door and went to let my neighbor know that I had gotten him a cat. He wanted to know ‘where’, and I pointed towards the car. Neither of us were ‘brave’ enough to even try to get the cat outta my car, and while we were talking about it, the tomcat bolted from my car. Well, THAT was solved.
Yup – he disappeared. I didn’t see him for about a week, but David – my neighbor, said that he had been hearing the tomcat in the attic. I finally caught sight of him on top of my cottage rooftop, and talked to him – and got some dry cat food and threw it up there for him to eat.
He was a beautiful cat. He was bright orange – with a ‘target’ of stripes on his side. Eventually, he friendly-upped, and came down off the roof. He and I got along fine. He was a low-maintenance cat – only needing the normal attention and petting. I named him ‘Tom’. Not very original, but he knew his name.
The other cat, I named ‘Spot’. For yall that watched Saturday Night Live – in the late 70’s, you may remember the ‘Mr. Bill Show’… it was a claymation type of show – with this poor clay dog that belonged to Mr. Bill. All sorts of terrible things happened to these two… Mr. Sluggo was a bully. Anyway – I named the female Spot, after the dog on this show.
Being a bachelor, I didn’t have too much furniture – and the furniture that I did have, well… it weren’t much – mainly cast-away stuff, or crates and such.
I didn’t have a table in the kitchen, and so mainly ate my supper off of the floor. I was trying to get meat into my diet, and was getting these tins of sardines – with jalapeno peppers in them. I liked these sardines, and the peppers gave the sardines a good flavor. I never ate the jalapenos though… you had to be crazy to do that.
I would let Tom in before supper, and he would notice my ‘table’ on the floor and head for it. I would say ‘No Tom!’, and he would freeze in his tracks, then retreat to the living room and turn his back to me and lay down. He was a good cat. (I couldn’t let Spot in prior to supper – as she didn’t ‘respect’ my kitchen table – and she would be in my lap – or face – trying to eat my sardines.)
I would eat my supper – sardines and saltine crackers, and then leave the juice and pepper in the bottom of the tin. I would say, “Ok Tom.”, and he would know that was his signal to come get his share. He would come in and lick the sardine juice outta the tin – but leave the pepper. When he was through, he would sit there licking his lips, and clean his face with his paws.
I would then open the back door, and say “Ok Spot – come on it.” She would charge in and skid to a stop at the tin – and start chomping down that pepper. I would watch Tom – as he observed Spot… and I swear, I could almost see him shaking his head in dis-belief at her.
Tom was a really good cat. I miss him. One day, I came home and David let me know that a few days prior – he had found Tom dead in a barrel we had outside. I asked what he did with him, as I was gonna go bury him – and David told me he had thrown him into the aqueduct (that’s sorta like a river). That made me mad. David had no sense when it came to respect for dead animals.
As for Spot – she lived to be a ripe old age. She wasn’t too smart though. I remember backing my VW into the yard, one time. I wasn’t a reckless person, and drove slow - but she – somehow – got under my back tire. I heard my car roll over her body. I just knew I had killed her. Well, she took off running and disappeared. Later, I found out that she had aborted her kittens – but she was all right. Well… almost. She was kinda tetched in the haid after that. I don’t remember if she ever had another litter after that either.
It was kinda funny too. David never liked Tom as much as I did. He had wanted a ‘kitten’ like Spot. Well, we just sorta unofficially ‘traded’ animals. Spot spent a lot of time over at Davids’, and Tom spent a lot of time over at my place.
In fact David even commented how that Tom and I were a lot alike. Kinda loners.
I haven’t ever seen another cat like Tom. Like many animals I have had – he was one-of-a-kind.
Regards,
Jim_TX