smoofsicle
As we all know, every personal blog is required by law to post cat stories from time to time. I have been remiss.
Every morning is the same routine: the cats gather around the bed as it starts to get light outside—especially if I’ve been up too late the night before. Mikey will climb on me and purr loudly, or, if I haven’t slept enough, enthusiastically paw at the intersection of the sheets above and below me as if he’s trying to dig a hole. I consider it a point of honor not to get up until the alarm actually goes off; otherwise the cats win. Eventually I drag myself into the kitchen to give the furry ones a tiny amount of canned food, like a tablespoon apiece. This is the highlight of their day.
But this morning, there was no Smoofy.
I searched all over the house, down in the basement, in the garage, everywhere. No luck. I got my flashlight and started over. Out in the garage, I found the little gray kitty, scared as can be, hiding in a corner where I couldn’t see him without a light. I should explain—Smoofy and his brother Julius were originally feral cats, and are easily freaked out by humans. To this day, I have never even petted Julius (too many places he can hide in the house, and it makes no sense to traumatize him further trying to pet him). Smoofy is extremely affectionate, though half the time he still runs away when I come close to him.
He was too freaked out to come inside, even though it was literally freezing cold in the garage. The temp this morning was in the single digits, and the garage is a standalone unit. Smoofy ran under my car and wouldn’t come out. He seemed to be okay, but really needed to get warmed up. He had been out there at least seven hours. I tried to coax him out with food, with the other cats, with catnip, with the feathery thing on the end of a stick. No luck. I put a towel under the car so he could lie on it and maybe warm up a little, but he wouldn’t do it. After an hour or so, I brought one of those electric radiator things out and put it next to the car, hoping he would be attracted by the warmth. No dice, though the readout on the radiator said the ambient temperature was 32°. I had been lying on the floor a lot, talking to him and touching him—my fingers could just brush his face if I stretched hard enough. Even with frequent breaks, I was getting pretty chilled myself. The other cats? They were in heaven. A catnip party, expeditions out to the garage, extra food, and so forth. Smoofy should do this every day!
Finally, after almost two hours, he was close enough I could sort of pet him. He started purring and let me pet him more, and then finally came close enough I could pick him up and take him in the house. He jumped out of my arms and hid in the basement, though eventually he spent most of the morning in the upper reaches of the cat tree in the sun room, which has to be the warmest spot in the house. As for me, it was time for a hot shower and fresh coffee.
So, that’s why I haven’t gotten much work done today….
Comments
OH THE POOR LITTLE SMOOFSICLE!!!
Poor little cold baby; you must hug him and cuddle him and kiss him LOTS this weekend.
He might want to think twice before he heads for the garage again, huh? Although you know he won't. Thank God he has all that fur. Poor Smoofadoofalus.
Posted by: The Wife | February 3, 2007 05:39 AM
"otherwise the cats win"
That's a nice little delusion you perpetuate there. The cats always win. But they know that every now and then they have to let you feel like you won. Otherwise their training (of you) doesn't take as well.
Posted by: Reid | February 5, 2007 09:06 PM
Reid, you're right, of course. As one of my old roommates used to say, "If cats were only half as smart as they actually are, they would rule the world."
Posted by: pat | February 5, 2007 09:27 PM