“When are you going to change the name of your blog to Phyllis Diller and wine and cats?” my cousin Dusty asked.
She’s probably right — I should do that. I love cats. Cats love me. Cats seek me out and attach themselves. And if you’re reading this, I’m guessing this might have happened to you, too.
This is Lop Ear. He is not my cat. No, he isn’t. It might appear that he is since he’s sleeping in my living room. It’s true that I feed him and put out fresh water and when the nights get too cold or the days too hot, I let him into the house. I still insist that he is the neighborhood stray although, come to think of it, he’s not strayed from my yard for many months. Or even a couple of years if I’m going to be honest.
The neighborhood where I live in Las Vegas is one of the old areas with big yards, tall trees and fences that give privacy. My yard still has grass and lots of shade from big fruit trees. And this being the desert, I’ve always kept a bowl of fresh water on the patio for whoever may be passing through.
The first few times Lop Ear passed through I shooed him off. I already had three cats — my two legitimate ones, Smokey and Black Jack, and then Paddy O’Cat who camped on my patio for nearly a year before I finally allowed him into the house. I’m willing for a cat to use my shade, drink the water and even avail themselves of the cushions on my patio furniture, but I didn’t want yet-another-cat added to my family. Still, once in awhile I would put out a handful of kibble which he inhaled. Then he started talking to me.
“Thank you, nice lady,” he’d say (in cat, of course) when I set down a napkin with a bit of kibble on it. Sometimes he’d actually rub against my legs and look up at me with adoring eyes. Geez — all that for a handful of cat food? Once in awhile I’d give him some of the canned food that my cats had scorned.
“You got this on sale, didn’t you?” Black Jack would say as he backed away from his dish.
“Oh, Pee-Euw!” Smokey would add while casting a side-long glance at me.
Paddy O’Cat had come from a house with 9 cats and 2 dogs so was still grateful for anything he could eat in peace.
Lop Ear was like, “Gour-MAY!” as he licked up every last scrap.
However, the honeymoon may be over. This morning I dished up some more of the cheap stuff while making “yum yum!” sounds. Paddy suddenly declared himself not hungry and even Lop Ear scrutinized his dish and then gave me a look like, “Really? This is the best you can do?”
So now I have two cases of cheap cat food that nobody will eat. I guess it’s time to donate it somewhere. Maybe the cats at the shelter will appreciate it.
In the meantime, I’ll have to stop by PetSmart and shell out for the real stuff. If I get any more cats, I’m going to have to go back to work to support them. I sure wish I could think of a way for them to support me! If anyone knows how to do that, please drop me a line.