Tails of Many Cats

Jack makes it in time again – –

This isn’t a story of our cats although they will feature at times and there are certainly many stories about them!

This is the story of our neighborhood cats. We live on the edge of a cat colony, and they use our yard as a highway. They live in an abandoned apartment complex about a block away. Some are solitary and some hang around together but they all know where they can find breakfast, lunch and dinner!

We know that a few of them visit neighbors who also put out food for them and offer porches where they can either sunbathe or find a place to sleep.

There’s a local cat rescue group who regularly trap any newbies and get them spayed and released so things are reasonably under control.

Our frequent visitors are named by us for their colors and obvious personal attributes. We have Orangey, Sherbert, Blacky, Big Blacky, Tippy, Tux, Silver Tux, and Bernard.

Tippy!

Our two cats are fairly understanding about them all except for Tippy, who has been a daily frequent visitor since we moved here five years ago. Our neighbors had already named her because she is all over dark brown except for the tip of her tail which is white. She is extremely friendly and doesn’t just come for food, but likes a head rub and back scratch as well. We think she aspires to be an indoor cat and has occasionally come into the house or the porch. Once she chased young Dammit right through the cat flap into our living room before she realized she was in the house, and sat back with an appraising look. We think she didn’t like the coordination of our rug and curtains…

If our two, Molly and Dammit, are on our enclosed porch (the catio) and Tippy shows up they scream at her and she screams back. Since I don’t speak their language I can’t translate but I have a pretty good idea what they’re saying all the same. So I doubt if they will all three be sharing indoor space anytime soon.

Of the many others who show up regularly, Orangey and Blackie aren’t nearly as friendly as Tippy but are willing to tolerate us as long as we put out the food they prefer – –

The marmalade cat we call, well, Marmalade, likes to sunbathe on the chicken coop roof. The chickens like having her there; we think she may keep the hawks away. Orangey prefers the side yard, and Tux and Silver Tux never stay long, just passing through….

If it came to it, we could house another cat (besides Tippy) but they all seem well content to ease on down the road after a snack at our diner. We think there’s a “friendly people here” sign scratched into a tree someplace. Well, it’s not doing any harm and we buy cat food in bulk. Slink on by, feline friends, and just know if we catch you, we’re going to have you neutered. No harm, no foul, no offspring.

The Ghost in the Hotel – –

Last week was busy – three states in three days for four different meetings. No sweat. I learned a long time ago to sleep in hotel rooms just fine.

But in the third hotel, in Atlanta, something a little disturbing happened. I am accustomed to traveling alone. When it’s night time, I set my door guard as usual, do the before-bed needfuls in the bathroom, and either read until the book hits my face, or watch TV until I realize I’ve missed the last ten minutes of the plot.

All these things were done and I awoke in the middle of the night needing to visit the wee room.

When I entered, the toilet seat was up.

I have no further information about how that might have happened. I certainly didn’t put it up. The door was locked and bolted. There were no adjoining door rooms into my room. And I was alone.

This is what’s known in the business travel industry as “freak out territory.”

In the cool light of day, I have examined the many alternatives–aided by crowdsourcing online.

The prevailing theory is ghosts. In second place is a rat coming up the pipes. In distant third is the fact that the toilet seat was loose, inclined to shifting. Perhaps it simply flew up and I didn’t notice.

Yeah, none of these theories work well. Personally I’m willing to believe it was a ghost and move on with my life. He wasn’t noisy, and although it would have been more polite to put the seat back down when he was finished, maybe that was his way of expressing his presence on a polite but distant way.

As a friend of mine said in a musical X-files sort of way: doo-doo doo-doo