Orange Tabby Time

If anyone asks, I am not a cat person. I don't speak cat, I don't like their wildness and the fact that they put their teeth inside of dead and alive rodents. *shudder* I don't like the hives that form all over my body or the hair that get caught in my throat. I don't understand why anyone would be slave to an animal who won't even care if they are home or not.

But, they have their merits. They are beautiful. They are wild. They are clean and self sufficient and don't need to sit inside of your chest while you try to unwind from work for a blessed twenty minutes until you give up, go to bed and hide under the covers while the dogs dig and try to burrow their way inside. Also, they are beautiful.

There is a fat orange tabby cat that lives on the front lawn of the house across the street from me. I assume that it belongs to the family in that house: lovely people, by the way. But the truth is, I have never seen it entering or leaving the house, it may just like that patch of grass. It's pretty well maintained. (Don't judge me! I need to kiss up where applicable. Some neighbors aren't going to like me to much when I cover their cars in their beer bottles and pizza boxes since they obviously don't want the thrown out. I know this to be the case since they have NEVER actually brought their waste to the curb.)

Last week, said cat was in my driveway as I was walking up. My only thought was, "Oh, a cat." Last night, after making a dinner time take-out sushi run, I parked and was walking down the driveway and there was the cat again. The second time I've seen it on my property and also in a long time, and my only though was, "There's the cat that is too cute and chubby and I just love him so much!" I tried to compose myself, by here was this cat, slowly walking towards me, meowing, tail languidly swinging up in the air, and just looking so expectant. As my dogs have nailed "I'm sorry" with their eyes, this cat has mastered "Please please please please please don't leave my side."

So obviously, I sat on the partially ice covered cement stairs in literally freezing weather and played with the cat. He (I am guessing here) rubbed all around my legs and purred in between meowing. When I pet him, he moved into my hand and then would throw himself onto his back and start rolling around like a goofball, but when I would make a move closer to my front door, he was underfoot, giving me that LOOK! Obviously, I gave the cat some Crab Roll and helped him unroll it to get to the good stuff. I had to call my friend and asked him to give me all the reasons as to why I couldn't bring this cat inside with me. Aside from my swelling hand, the growling dogs, and the fact that the very nice people across the street are very likely his owners. I made it inside, but have been thinking about him all day.

He had no collar. He walks around too freely. He likes sushi. I hope he made it inside last night. But it is a good thing I don't have a farm. It would be shut down by Animal Planet. They'd be all, "Listen lady, nobody NEEDS 65 horses." And I'd be all, "But fake officers: There are 65 baby carrots PER baby carrot package! This makes sense!"