Don’t get me wrong, I love cats. They are my favorite animal and I have 4 of them. I love them all dearly. They all have their own little personalities and they have their own little quirks…these things make them unique and special in my eyes. I love my little furbabies and would miss them dearly if something were to happen to one of them.
Smokie is the handicapped spayed female. She was hit by a car (or kicked by a cow, not sure exactly) and she has very limited eye sight. She is not allowed to go outside without supervision. Kitty (also spayed female) is the baby of the house. She’s almost 2 years old now. She’s psychotic, has red eyes and can turn on you in a split second. She is not to be trusted! On the other hand, she’s scared of everything that moves and the outdoors. She stays inside and doesn’t ever want to go out. Fine by me. One less cat to let in and out.
Fuzz and Korn are the males (neutered, shh don’t tell them!) and they usually go outside at night, which I don’t especially like but they are very wise and have a keen sense of danger. They come in the house in the morning and sleep all day until 5pm, which is their dinner time and they always seem to know the exact time!
Last night, for some reason Fuzz and Korn both stayed inside. Maybe it was just too cold for them at 25 degrees or so. It’s not like they haven’t been out in the cold before but maybe they’re just getting too old for it. Who knows.
The thing is I woke up this morning with Fuzz looking at me as if he wanted to go outside. I figure he probably does have to go out for a potty break. I ease my way out of bed and he’s waiting for me in the middle of the living room when I get there. I go to the door and open it, calling for him to go outside. He sits there and stares at me and then the door. I call him a few more times and then I just give it up. I figure he’s got something else on his mind. By the time I get to the spot where he sat watching me, he makes a mad dash for the door like he wants out! I was very aggrivated at this point but I went back to the door and opened it. Again, he just sat there and looked at the door. What the heck? I tell him to “just go outside you little furbrained terd. Stop F***ing with me!” He is finally outside and I’m relieved to have ended this game of his as quickly as I did. Sometimes these games go on all night long! In and out, in and out. One comes in the other wants out….all night long. It drives me insane.
I know, it’s my own fault for putting up with it. Dad tells me to throw their asses out whether they like it or not. Well, I understand that’s what I should do but they are my furbabies. I can’t just throw them outside as if I don’t care that it’s cold out or that there may be a coyote lurking about near the yard. I love them dearly.
And the thing about cats is that they love me unconditionally and their only demands are to be fed and let in and out and in and out and in and out……. What would I do without them? (I would probably be just as crazy so what the heck?)