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Stranded Kitty June 5, 2009

Posted by Peeps in Big Lug, random stuff, Stupor Kitty.

Toys is a very compassionate person.  She keeps trying to find ways to bring Stupor Kitty out of the basement and into the world of light.  Some of them don’t work out too well.  Her latest one seems to be doing a lot of good.

When we remember, as one or both of us is about to walk the dog, we open the basement door.  Kitty is then free to roam her house until such time as that dog comes back.  The first time I got out of the shower and found her on the bed, I was somewhat startled.

The few times that I’ve been around when Toys walked the dog by herself, kitty has come and sat in my lap and deposited roughly four pounds of cat fur on my person.  It’s been, well, good.  I guess.

Wednesday was one of those days.  I’ve been sick lately.  It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, the last thing I feel like is going for a walk.  Off they went, and I opened the door.  The kitty was happy to see me.  She kept rubbing against my legs while I was trying to get stuff done in the kitchen.

After a bit, I went out onto the porch to go smoke.  Please don’t give me any grief.  I’ve heard it all before and I’m not feeling well right now.  Anyway, while I was out there Toys and the puppy came back.  Jarly was tired and laid right down in his favorite spot near his momma in the front hall.

There was no sign of the cat, so I went and closed the door to the basement, thinking she had gone back down.  Ooops.

A little while later, I came over to ask my wife something.  When I noticed the kitty sitting in the window looking nervous.

Nuts. Another evening of adventure. I don’t like adventure much any more. I’m too old and tired.  The dog, who has been known to bark at people across the street from inside our house, hadn’t noticed.  He was too busy being crashed out.  Six feet away.
(sigh) Okay, what to do? We leashed him and brought him into the living room. With his favorite treat of all, cheese. He still hadn’t actually seen the cat, but we wanted to put that off as long as we could.

Toys tried reasoning with the cat. I’ll bet you can figure out how well that went. I took him outside, so Toys could coax kitty back into the Underdark.

That’s when he saw her.

Here I am, outside with the dog on his leash, with him leaping and acting like an even bigger idiot than usual. Lunging at the front of the house. Crud. It’s going to be a long night.

I finally got the all clear.  Except  for one tiny problem.  Kitty was now upstairs.  I could see that sleep was going to be a forlorn idea.  Finally, both of us being tired, I took Jarly out yet again, and Toys dragged the kitty, hissing and cranky, back down to her lair.

I really wish they’d just get it over with and fight it out.  I could relax a little.  Once we removed the blood stained rug.



1. Mazco34 - June 5, 2009

Wish they would just fight it out?

I know your reasoning, Mister; have at like two guys and then they be buying beers for each other and be best buds.

Somehow I don’t picture that happening.

Peeps - June 5, 2009

Exactly! And sadly, I don’t see it either.

2. judy - June 10, 2009

Oh… my…… My heart dropped when I saw that headliner. It really is too bad all the way around. I think DOG would back off at the first scratch but could CAT be depended on to leave it at that? Ah, that’s the big ???

Lotsa luck there guys.


Toy Lady - June 10, 2009

Actually, I’m reasonably certain that most of the time, she starts it. He’ll be doing what he does – lying around, taking up the whole kitchen floor, sniffing around for a scrap of cheese or something, and she’ll be on the other side of the basement door, and she’ll stick her face or a hand through the kitty door and growl or hiss or do whatever she can to get his attention. . . of COURSE he’s going to react. He’s a DOG! All he can get through the kitty door is his nose, so I’m pretty sure she uses that for boxing practice – though I haven’t seen any sign of “first blood” yet – except mine last summer, of course. 🙄

I’m slowing starting to feel less and less sorry for Little Miss Poor Me. . . I’m just saying.

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