The Further Adventures of Jack “Frost”…

 

Some people write about their cats…a lot.  I don’t.  There are a couple of reasons, mine adopted me and I felt sorry for him, I’m really more of a dog person, and I have a fear of becoming known as a crazy cat lady.  Occasionally, though, my cat does something so darned hilarious, that I just have to share. 

A little background on me and cats…when I was younger, my grandparents had a cat, Nicodemus, Nick was a beautiful black and white cat, who wasn’t very friendly toward anyone.  At a very young age, I nearly sent my father to an early grave by shouting, “Damned cat!” an expression my grandmother frequently used even though my father asked her not to use it in front of a toddler.  In his later years, when I was in college, Nick became quite mellow and I was finally able to pet him and scratch his fluffy white tummy.  I guess you could say that we grew up together.  I think he was 22 when he finally laid down and went to cat heaven. 

I am on my second cat in adulthood.  The first was a black and white long hair that looked like an old man and was named Calvin Klein.  Calvin acted like a dog because I treated him like a dog.  Sadly, he was a prowler and got hit by a car.

About 6 years ago, Jack and I adopted each other.  He’s very cuddly and loveable, but we have a love-hate relationship because he wakes me up at 4:30 every morning. 

One day last week, I returned from the store and like normal, Jack was waiting in my parking spot to greet me.  As I juggled with the groceries, I sort of forgot about him until I reached the front door.  Somehow I thought he was right behind me but he wasn’t, so I called out to him and when he didn’t come, I wasn’t too concerned, because he’s an outdoorsy cat.  So I go about my business and a couple of hours later he still hadn’t come to the door and I peeked my head out to call him.  I called him several times that night before I finally went to bed around midnight.  It was a very cold night and even though he has his winter coat, I don’t like to leave him out.  By cold, I mean low 30’s F. 

My sleep was restless that night, because I was so worried.  By around noon the next day, he still hadn’t returned and I was starting to panic.  You see, Jack’s a prowler, he always comes home to eat.  There have been some raccoons in the neighborhood and we live near a creek, so wild animals came to mind and also cars.  I decided it was time to walk the neighborhood, so headed out through the parking lot. One thing I forgot to mention, my little fur child, likes to ride in the car.  He will sit up on the center console so he can see out.  You see where this is going?  Yep, there he was, locked in the car and sitting on the console meowing like crazy!  I’m telling you, I laughed so hard.  His little furry face was absolutely panicked and mad at the same time.  In fact, every time I called hem from the back porch, he probably heard me, but I couldn’t hear him.  I opened up the car door and he just circled me and told me off like nobody’s business.  Then he seemed to be grateful to have been rescued and wouldn’t leave my side. 

It was frosty that night for sure, but he corked the old bladder for about 17 hours and all I had to do was vacuum the cat hair.  He’s a pretty awesome little kitty.

                                                           “Whew, I need a rest!”