Kitty Bob’s Excellent Adventure

tiger boy

tiger boy (Photo credit: torbakhopper)

Here is a Jeopardy answer for you:  A house cat. So what is the question?

What is one of the forms many people would like to live out their next life as? I read somewhere that if people were given a choice of how to come back in their next life they would come back as a house cat. I understand. This answer did not mystify me at all. As the owner of a house cat, I too would love to be fed on a regular basis without having to cook; given treats just because I am cute; curl up wherever I want and have a nap whenever I want; and have as many adventures as I desire, knowing I have a home to come back to where people love me and bask in my very presence.

Our family cat is named Kitty Bob, or as I like to call him the ‘luckiest cat on earth’.  The footprints of his muddy little paws are adored by at least three quarters of my family. He can do no wrong in their eyes.  Talk about unconditional love. Now, I have to admit, as the fourth quarter of this family, my  love for the cat is a bit conditional—he is not in my good books when, for whatever reason, he sometimes does the unmentionable on my mentionables.  Thankfully his indiscretions are fairly few and far between.

There is a bit of a controversy going on right now about whether cat owners should not allow their cats to roam at will outside. Some people want them to have a licence like a dog. I tried to keep Kitty Bob in the house, and not let him see the light of day from anywhere but a window, but he was not satisfied—he needed his adventures. I think it would be easier to keep a cat in the house or on a leash if that cat had never known free roaming freedom—but as a small kitten, Kitty Bob was somehow left to fend for himself and find his own home. He wandered the streets on Halloween night in 2006 following trick treaters, and the next day, found me on my early morning walk.

I don’t know why, but Kitty Bob adopted me. He had no way of knowing I am not innately an “animal person”.  I have never disliked animals, and I did have a pet cat about twenty some years ago (named Kitty—I am not really great in the business of cat naming).  They say things come into your life when you need them. I am not so sure I needed a cat, but the rest of my family certainly took to the idea. My husband is a bone fide “animal person”. In fact a friend of his asks him to come over and visit the family cat when they go on vacation. No kidding. He does not ask John to feed or take care of the cat as they have that covered by a neighbour. John did some work at this friend’s house and befriended their cat, who was not really friendly to strangers. Known in the small circle of our family as a “cat whisperer”—his reputation is now ever widening.

I am curious as to what our cat does and where he goes when he leaves the house. He is smart enough to come in out of the rain, and when he sticks his nose out the door, he kind of tests the waters—and if it is too cold, or the snow too high, he turns tail and decides that the warmth of the house is where he wants to be. But those other times–where does he go? We think that since night time is his favourite time to be outside, he parties hardy somewhere. Every once in a while, in his innocence, and true to his nature (as has been explained to me when I have reacted in disgust) he does bring us home an occasional “treasure”. Fortunately this does not happen too often, and many times when he sets his cargo free, it (in the form of a bunny) runs off (or in the form of a bird) flies away.  Mice have not been so fortunate though—although when we had a little problem with the critters in our basement a year ago, we think he made friends with them. I guess house mice are different than outside mice.

Kitty Bob does not talk much about his adventures. He lets us know when he is hungry or when he wants a snack.  He lets us know when he wants to go upstairs to the bathroom for a drink of running water from a tap (which John will readily run up and turn on for him), and he “tells” us when he wants to go outside. But he does not “kiss and tell” or ruminate about his adventures—he just goes out and does his rendition of “Indiana Jones”, then comes home to us, finds one of his favourite resting places and naps. Oh, the life!

Published in: on September 1, 2011 at 12:36 am  Leave a Comment  
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