Tuesday, September 1, 2009

The Cat Came Back

the very next day
we thought he was a gonner
but the cat came back
he just couldn't stay away...

You know the song. It was one of the MANY Miss Hall taught us in 3rd grade. We learned Phonics, entire chapters out of the book of Matthew, and a plethora of sing along songs.

There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza...

Anywho. back to the real reason for this blog. Anyone who knows me knows that I am severely, deeply, and extremely psychologically attached to my cat, AKA Tucker Thomas. He is my child. I have no human child, so Tucker is my feline substitution. Those creepy old ladies on 20/20 have their lifeless porcelain dolls as replacement children; I have my cat. He's weathered the last eight years with me through two states, three houses, a few random boys, some ridiculously crazy parties, and one husband. It's me & Tuck. Tuck & me.

Tucker's predominant character quality, besides persistence in begging for cheese, is FEAR. Most of his life he's been scared of pretty much everything. When a doorbell rings on TV, he goes mach speed to find a hiding place. It's nuts. It took me three years to get him to stand outside in the back yard without tucking his tail between his legs and physically shaking. But the thing he's scared of most??

Other animals.

Once we let the kids bring their brand new baby kittens down for a visit. KITTENS. Teeny, tiny, meowing kittens. Well, this scared the pee out of 23 pound Tucker and we didn't see him again for a week. He hightailed it out his pet door and wasn't heard from for like SEVEN DAYS. The kittens weren't invited back.

From time to time, my sister comes to visit. She has two dogs. Two small dogs, but dogs nonetheless. She has to bring them because she has no one to babysit them and dogs aren't independent like cats. You can't just go on vacation for a week and be confident they'll fend for themselves. So she has to bring the canines when she visits. Consequently, if Tucker even sees Dani, walking solo, up the sidewalk, he's out. HE. IS. OUT. He's thinking, "Screw you guys. I'll see you next year." And he goes.

Well, Dani came to stay overnight for ONE NIGHT this weekend. She brought one of the dogs. Consequently, Tucker hit the road for who knows where and stayed gone. Finally, Sunday night I went out into the back yard to call for him, hoping he was close. I hear his loud meow and he sounded like he was stuck somewhere. P got out the flashlight and shined it through the neighbor's fence. Tuck was just hanging out back there, not caught in anything, just moaning and wailing away every time I called his name, like I KNOW you want me to come home, but I CAN'T!!! Fear had paralyzed him. I tried to go over and pick him up, but he ran. He knew the plan was to take him back into the house with that freaking DOG which of course HAD to STILL be there HIDING SOMEWHERE.

All day and night Monday, no Tucker. I couldn't sleep last night. I kept having visions of him lying dead in the street somewhere or some neighbors stupid, huge dog trying to rip him to shreds. No sleep. Then something woke me up at 6:00 this morning. Tucker was scratching and clawing, meowing loudly and frantically at my bedroom door. He needed in, and he needed in fast. Happy to hear his voice, I jumped up and opened the bedroom door. He immediately shot into the bedroom and started to worm his way underneath the bed. Even at 6 a.m. my reflexes are fairly quick. No you don't! I grabbed him and picked him up. He started wailing again. He needed to hide and I wasn't going to let him.

So with all 23 pounds of him in my arms, I walked him around and into every single room of our house, whilst he was growling, to show him there were no dogs in sight. I was sounding the all clear bell.

After about three minutes and looking around for any sign of canine life, he stopped growling. And I put him down. He followed me back into my bedroom, plopped himself exhausted into my open and empty suitcase left on the floor from traveling this weekend, gave himself a quick bath, and went to sleep.

Phew. And now we can both rest. :)


RyinNotRyan said...

haha, my uncles still pull that tune out when we do family campfire pickin' ... and yes, everyone knows it

Dani said...

I'm sorry :( if it makes things better, I found out sammy is mentally retarded. He has this genetic disorder where his brain didnt grow fully so now he's retarded. That's right. I have a special needs dog.