Dodger

Each weekday morning my cat drives me crazy.

It used to was that I let him out the minute I got up at 4:45 am. He’d sleep at my feet (or at my head) and the minute the alarm went off he would trot to the bathroom, rub up against my legs as I took care of my morning business, and then meow pleadingly at the front door. And I’d let him out.

But a few weeks ago we had a scare. Minutes after I let him out I heard an unearthly noise –  a ghostly, whining moan – followed by a loud, horrific screetch. To any cat owners out there, you know how unnerving that sound can be.

I ran out the front door, calling out my cat’s name but got no response. I then ran to the back door and out into the driveway. Our little kitty was fearfully crouching in the back of the driveway and when I approched him he made a slunky retreat under my husband’s car.

temptations-treats-for-cats-chicken-flavor-3oz-1_1By this time my daughter was up and outside in her nightgown, frantic that her beloved kitty was injured. We coaxed him out from under the car with kitty krack…a bag of Temptation cat treats.

Once inside he seemed no worse for the wear, with the exception of a scratch on his nose and one of his puffy little cheeks. But it was scary. We couldn’t tell if the creature that he had almost come to blows with was simply another cat or something more lethal, like a possum.

Right then and there the decision was made to keep kitty indoors until the sun comes up. And right then and there my mornings went from quiet to cacophonous.

Kitty still sleeps by my head, still joins me in the bathroom for a few leg rubs and scratches, but then I sit at the computer and he sits at the door and cries. And cries. And cries. From 4:45 – 6:30 am he cries moanfully, and bangs his paw on the wooden blinds, which make a horrible clattering noise.

Cuddie

That’s when I hit him with the spray bottle. And he runs away…for a minute. Then he’s right back wailing and crying and banging the blinds, where I again grab the spray bottle to give him another squirt. My husband is worse, though. He’ll chase him around the house spraying the poor cat until he’s fairly soaking.

By the time the sun is starting to rise I am more than ready to drop kick him out the front door. So my rule is, if it’s light enough for me to see the street, he is cleared for take-off. My daugher and husband do not share in the wisdom of this rule. They want the sun high in the sky before he can head out, but they haven’t been up for 90 minutes listening to his wails and moans and blind banging.

If it wasn’t so annoying, it would almost be comical. It’s like he’s missing some big kitty meeting that all of his buddies are at, and he’s the only newbe left inside. I wish I could reason with the little fucker…sit him down and say, “kitty – there are monsters out there, and we don’t want them to eat you up so you have to stay in where it’s safe.”

He’s such a beautiful kitty. The thought of something happening to him, something like what we went through with Olive last spring, is too painful for me to bear. I just hope he gets used to our new schedule soon – cause it’s not even winter yet, and the mornings are only going to get darker for the next month.

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