The writer’s not-quite-bright cat
Other Brother Coon Cat (OBCC) is about to find my last nerve and stomp on it.
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I was sleeping soundly when, around 11:45, I heard a BAM, a rustling of bushes, and a pitiful meow.
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Unfortunately, it takes me a while to come out of a deep sleep.
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Remember my $366 cat?
YES. THIS ONE!
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OBCC had burrowed between the curtains and the window that has to remain open so that I don’t die in my sleep from toxic cat poop fumes.
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He must have been laying on the sill when his massive weight caused an overburdened screen to give way. Not knowing how long he’d been languishing outside, I grabbed a flashlight and trudged into the wilderness to find him.
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This isn’t city life. I don’t have a manicured lawn. In fact, most of the terrain around my house looks like this:
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I wandered (carefully, to avoid dog poop)– in my PJ’s — to the back of the house.
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I called. No OBCC, so I reattached the screen after bending it back in shape while holding a flashlight between my knees.
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The light, and my cursing, didn’t attract him to my position, so I wandered to the other side of the house and back to the front steps, calling his name.
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The Tiny Terror came rushing over the fence and into the house — so, of course, I opened a can of cat food on the kitty perch in the kitchen so he wouldn’t feel all thrown away.
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Another foray into parasite hell, and back to the window…again…calling OBCC’s name. Out from the bushes comes a rather dazed cat, no doubt lost in his own yard.
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I carried all 20 pounds of him into the house, and where does he go first?
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The window!
You think he would’ve learned a lesson but…no.
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He’s presently curled up on the chair next to the closed window.
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My not-quite-bright cat is fast asleep, 2 dogs are snoring on my bed, the Tiny Terror has taken over my pillow…and what do I get? Large doses of adrenaline, anxiety, and a fair bit of anger.
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In other words: I have no hope of getting to sleep before 3 in the morning, so I’m writing this D@%*$d post for my blog.
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I think I hear ice cream calling my name — or perhaps it’s the hallucinogenic effect of toxic cat poop fumes.
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And you were worried about cow farts.
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©Joelle LeGendre
I could actually picture this in my mind you outside with your torch and having to try and fix the screen half a sleep I thought I had it bad when the wee ginger from next door manages to somehow break through the microchip cat flap. I knew Spike was in sleeping on my bed when I heard the cat flap go then something munching Spikes food down. I got up only to end up chasing the wee ginger out from under my bed,behind the settee thinking I should be in bed copied up by now. Eventually I managed to get him out. I now call the wee ginger Houdini. Nothing worse than lack of sleep. x😻💜🐾
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You’ve been through it, too.
I’m certainly feeling the lack of sleep this morning.
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Don’t those pes know where to do there business yet? Cheers,H
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He relied on his brother for everything and rarely left his side. When his brother died, he was a little lost soul. He is never far from me, or something with my scent. I feel badly for him most of the time, but yesterday was just a bit much. 🙂
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Male cat farts are worse!
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I believe it. 🙂
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It’s good that they always land on their feet.
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I’m not sure if he did, but I don’t ever remember him falling like that.
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Very funny in the retelling, but I’m happy to only experience it secondhand. In fact, this sounds like one of those episodes in life where the best way to get through it is to think, “This is going to make a GREAT story later.”
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You are exactly right!
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