Gotcha

 

Today, as I wrote this post

It was Sep 13, 2020. 

A Sunday.

I had a Little League game to call in Bridgeport.

It was also just nine days after Mom died. It was also nine days after I met a black cat. Name of Binx.

Binx -- that name would never last -- and I drove home that same night.

Sep 13, 2020

He meowed for the entire drive. That's roughly 50 miles and over an hour of listening to him. I tried everything to get him to relax but, let's face it, I get it. 

He was in a moving car with someone he'd barely met. He was scared.

He immediately went into hiding when we got to Mahopac. Sean and I still laugh at how he hid under a cart in the dining room. We'd never seen a cat get that small.

All efforts to get this now-unnamed cat to chill out were fruitless. It would take time.

Sunday turned to Monday. Nothing.

Tuesday. Still nothing.

In fact, very little signs existed of him eating the food I left out for him.

This cat, who was supposed to be coming to us to help us in the days after Mom died, was a ghost. We'd spot him behind the couch and, eventually, tucked under a desk.

Finally, on Wednesday, I scattered some food in the office where the desk was. He came out long enough to eat it and quickly retreated.

As much as I wanted to pet him, I ignored him.

Later on, he decided this strange new world with these two men wasn't so bad. He came out and began to explore.

Eventually, he was on my bed.

Oct 2020

Excuse me. His bed.

Soon he'd become a daily part of our lives. 

And a pain in the backside at that. I'm happy to say the 4 a.m. battle to feed him has migrated to after 5 a.m.

But we laugh a lot with the cat we renamed Rascal. Of course, that's just one name. "Squeaky," "Beast," "Walter," and some others get thrown around.

He amuses us. That's for sure.

While we haven't become the "crazy cat people" that I think some think we (I) are, we do have fun with the dynamic. Sean will often chide me for buying Rascal treats or whatever else he thinks is "spoiling the cat."

But, believe me, he'll spoil him also.

I have a long history of cats in my life, from Morris when I was young through Bandit and Fred. After Fred disappeared I felt I might be done. Then Chico came here for the final four years of his life. A few months after Chico passed, we lost Mom and the concern was that the house would feel very lonely.

Thus, my niece and her husband felt we should bring their Binx here.

When I first met him he was a bit of a food hog. The night I met him he showed interest in my chicken parm dinner. Since he's been here, eating our food has not been an issue. 

Back in Bridgeport, Rascal also lived with his brother, Wilson. He's the king here. He seems to prefer being in a home with no other animals.

And we're blessed to have a landlord who took a chance on allowing us to bring him here since that's a huge issue in the rental world.

Sep 13, 2020

But here he is. He eats, sleeps, watches the world from his tower and various windows, walks around and begs for treats, and keeps us laughing.

And he yells at us.

He's been a perfect companion. My lifestyle has never been right for a dog but this goofy cat has been a great answer.

It's three years now since he arrived. Tonight, he'll probably sleep under my bed (makes no sense) and stir if I get out of bed anytime after 5 a.m.

But before then, we have a special chicken brother treat for him. 

Happy Gotcha Day, Beast.