Position Open -- Room and Board, Good Benefits

A week to the day after Jersey's ... departure, I heard a growl and a hiss. Moving to the window, I was in time to see Tasha plumped up twice her size in defensive guise, and a whiz of furzy blur that looked like the back leg and tail of a calico cat. We have no calico cats in the neighborhood, owned or otherwise, only a complete variety of black and white, or gray cats. Harry is the closest to multicolored, with his white and brown and golden and gray and black coat. Certainly no gingers.

The next night, in the wee hours, Harry cornered something fierce under the stairs just out my window. I went out to check. It was growling and hissing, making clear to any concerned that if you even thought about edging a paw under the bottom step, you'd be flayed alive by the huge, fanged monster currently in residence. Harry sat about 5 feet away on a bench, tensed but unconcerned, looking everywhere but at the stairs, as if he just happened to innocently arrive on the scene and had a hearing-location problem. I love cats.

I stood at a safe distance for about 5 minutes, keeping up a steady flow of inconsequential conversation in a casual voice. Suddenly the hissing stopped, and the savage under the stairs swooped out and ran to me like Richard Kimble chased into a church sanctuary by the US Marshall and his SWAT team. He wrapped himself around my ankles. Purr, purr, mew mew, love me, save me, care for me, take me home.

It was gratifying, to say the least. He is a short-haired intensely-hued calico, probably full grown but not a large cat, with a thick soft coat and a black spot on his nose. I petted him copiously, fed and watered him, and left him outside.


Two days later, he was sleeping in the tv room, which has doors to the outside, with a litter box, food, water and several fleece blankets to choose from for beds. And he stuck. He's been indoors now for 4 days and nights. His name was settled quickly on Fred, aka Fredness, aka Mr. Chubby Huggs (named for a cartoon character cat who lives to hug others).

He is one of the most mellow cats I've met, like Hobbes, unphased by hyperactive children, loud noises, or being taken to the vets. He sleeps most of the day, uninterested in leaving the comfort of his chair except for brief strolls around the garden or house, and playful moments with a mouse-toy. He reacts only to cats, and even them he's getting used to (but for the most part we have kept them all separate). The other cats are curious, but (aside from an occasional pounce from Tasha the House Protector) they mostly ignore him, even when he is hissing. He is socialized, playful, mostly well-groomed. We are debating how long he's been on the streets, because he's clearly lived with humans before. He's less a "stray" than a "lost" cat, and far far from "feral".

To be honest, we have not been jonny-on-the-spot with finding his presumed owners. We have looked for Lost Cat signs in the neighborhood (none), but we haven't posted any Found Cat signs yet. I did finally take him to the vet's yesterday to have him checked for a Microchip ID (a little computer chip shot under the surface of the skin, that allows the cat to be uniquely ID'd -- a form of Social Security Number, if you will). Fred has been living "off the grid" apparently, and is not 'chipped.

In the meantime, Girl-Child has announced he will be her cat, and she will feed and care for him, and when he's allowed further into the house he will sleep on her bed.

Cattus Dommus is in disarray these days (blog entry about that to come some day soon). It is a relief to have something we all can love unconditionally, who appears to unconditionally love us back, with no proving time. There's lots of sub-textual stuff about being lost, adrift and begging, and finding a comfortable home, and for the moment, we'll stall on determining where Fred is supposed to be sleeping. Ultimately, whether we find those other people, or he stays here, Fred has a home.