My Cat

Was It Your Cat?

My Cat

It isn't really my cat. She, our visitor, thinks and acts like she is mine. Four weeks ago, about Christmastime, she appeared. She just appeared at our back patio door. She let us know, right then, she was there and should be on the inside of the door rather than the outside.

Well, I did the unthinkable. I went outside and fed her. We didn't have cats, so we shouldn't have had cat food. But I had helped our daughter move into their new home, and when they had all the essential things loaded and ready to move, I told her I would clean up around their old house. She said, "Keep anything that you see that you might want." I had told them I would take everything to the refuge center so that it would be ready for the new owners. That is when I found a half-full plastic container of cat food. I knew we didn't have a cat, but I couldn't throw away anything that was still good or could be helpful to someone. So, I had cat food tucked away in our garage.

When I went out on the patio, the cat came over and jumped up on a table against the garage wall. She, the cat, thought she ought to be fed. I looked at her and could agree. She was skinny. She didn't have a collar on to indicate that she belonged to anyone, but I am sure it had belonged to someone by her actions around the patio door and the way she just jumped up on the table expecting something to eat. I thought someone in the neighborhood might have gone on a vacation and had forgotten to get someone to take care of her, but I didn't know anyone in the area who had moved recently.

While standing there on the table just crying for something to eat, she let me pet her and even pick her up. I just knew she was a family pet from somewhere, but since the owners must be lost, I went into the garage and brought out the half-full plastic container of (by this time) ancient cat food. I poured a portion into a small plastic pan (the black container of a frozen dinner I had previously eaten). One smell of that food, and she dove right in. It seemed like she couldn't eat it fast enough. This again proved that it had been some time since she had eaten.

Where were the owners? The family must be missing her and should be trying to locate her. Now, with a bit of food in her stomach, maybe she would return to her home, waiting for her owners to return home.

Nice thinking. Want to think again?

The cat never did leave. At night, she found a place to sleep somewhere around the patio. She was there again early the following day by the patio door, where she would begin her begging for a bite to eat. (She knew there had to be more from where the first meal came.) I knew God didn't want anyone to mistreat animals, so I was duty-bound to go out and feed her. As soon as I appeared at the garage door to the patio, she jumped onto the table where she had first gotten fed. This was now going to be her place to eat. I poured another portion of the same old cat food into the black plastic dish, and she ate. She seemed about as hungry as the day before. Throughout the day, from time to time, she would appear at the patio door and again let out her mournful meow to let us know that she was hungry again. It wasn't long, and I knew I would not have any food left for that hungry cat.

So the next day, while shopping, I picked up a large package of similar-looking cat food, hoping it would taste as good as the old food seemed to taste. Now, I could continue feeding her until the owners found her, or she returned home.

Guess what? She never left. In fact, she didn't have any intention of leaving. I had discouraged her from staying by not letting her into the house (That was orders from my wife. I really love her (my wife, that is.)) But this had not encouraged her to leave.

Soon she found that if she jumped onto a small shelf by the back patio door, then jumped over to a nearby window flower box, she could jump onto the window air conditioner. From there, she could look into the kitchen and see what was happening. She would let out her familiar meow asking to come in from this position. No one had ever let her in yet.

Remember, she isn't ours; she is just waiting until her owners return for her. I knew that the meows were petitions to be let into the house because, from time to time, I would go outside to check on her food bowl. Food still existed, so I knew she was not meowing for food. I would humor her a little and put more food in her dish. Sometimes she would eat just a bite to humor me. She knew I knew she wanted inside the house. She showed this by even trying to sneak into the garage when I would go outside to see what she was meowing about.

Anyway, this is where we are with the (my cat). I can tell by her actions that she belonged to a loving family. She liked to be petted and held. She would jump on my lap when I went to the patio and sat in a chair. So I thought, "She belongs to someone. She should go home to see if her owners were back". But ----, there was that sneaking suspicion, though, that maybe the owners were tired of owning the cat. Or they might have moved and could not find their cat when they left.

If the owners moved but had not found the cat before they left, they knew their cat was adaptable. They can scrounge around for food. They will locate a supply, know when they are well off, and stay as long as the food supply lasts. If the owners got tired of being the owners, they knew cats were adaptable. Owners can "relocate" their cats by driving from their homes and "dropping them off" close to their new food supply. This place will be wherever the cat finds a handout.

We have been using the word adaptable to describe this cat's abilities. However, I now prefer to use another word, and that word is "adoptable." Cats can quickly "adopt" a new owner, especially someone who will provide a daily ration of food and some kindness shown towards it.

What am I saying? I think I have been adopted by this cat. I am her new owner. She now belongs to me. I am responsible for feeding and petting her from time to time. Even though the adoption has taken place, she still has to "train" her new owners. For example, she has to let the new owners know when the meow means "I am hungry" and when the meow means "let me in the house." So far, the new owners only know the meow, meaning "I am hungry." The newly adopted owners are old, and it may be some time before this owner learns anything new about what the other cat's meows may mean.

Written in the spring of 2015 or 2016.

Larry E. Whittington

PS. Because Carol, my wife, would not want cat hairs all over our couch and chairs, I reluctantly took the loving cat to the shelter where another loving family could adopt her.

That was about eight years ago. Carol, my wife, passed away on November 2, 2023, and my daughter has given me an eight-old kitten to take care of. That “little Critter”, that is its name, takes a lot of attention, but he is getting acquainted with me.

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