The woman who lives in this editor’s house is trying to tame a stray cat. When I first moved into town, a number of feral cats lived in and around a vacant and dilapidated house that was across the street and down the alley.
With those cats on the prowl, a rodent didn’t have a chance in our neighborhood, but that house was removed to make way for the construction of the Superior Public Library. Since then, neighborhood changes have increased the rodent food supply. Consequently, Rita decided to befriend a stray cat with the expectation it will stick around and earn its keep by devouring any rodents who try to capitalize on the neighborhood amenities.
The first day Rita put food out for the cat, he saw her looking out the window watching him eat and ran off.
Gradually, he has come to accept us. Friday’s big news on the cat front was that he had played with a rope Rita was dangling. Sunday he actually smelled Rita’s outstretched hand. After realizing what he had done, he retreated a couple of feet and began to roll and rub like he was asking to be petted, Monday he scampered onto the porch when called. However, he is still not ready to allow her to touch him, He no longer runs when I ride my bicycle up to the back door but he doesn’t like to eat while I am watching. The day is coming when he will let Rita pet him.
I refer to the cat as a him but a close examination may prove him to be a her, time will tell.
Pets add spice and interest to one’s life.
Last week a subscriber’s dog changed the cook’s supper plan. The woman of the house had put a high dollar roast on the back table to thaw only to have her dog devour the meat. While meal plans changed, the bright side was that the dog didn’t ask to be fed that evening.
I’m not sure if the dog regretted what she had done and was trying to make amends or if she wanted a sandwich with her meat. The next day she returned to the the back deck of her master’s home carrying a loaf of bread. Where or how she got the loaf of bread is a mystery.
It wasn’t the first time, the dog returned from a neighborhood exploratory trip with souvenirs. After a previous excursion. she returned with three biscuits neatly stacked in her mouth. On numerous other trips she has returned with toys.
She’s a smart dog and has learned how to open doors.
We once had a cat who could open doors. Leave a screen door unlocked and she would hook the door with her paw, pull it open and scamper inside.
While my mother didn’t allow cats in the house, Toby never gave up trying to get in. Had she been better behaved once inside, the rule may have changed.
One time mother had been churning butter and had left butter blocks on the counter while she went to hang the morning’s wash on the line. Toby got in and sampled each of the butter blocks.
A similar story involved cans of fresh milk. Dad had finished the morning milking and left gallon cans of fresh milk on the counter to cool. His plan was to let the cream rise, skim it off and take it into town to sell. Toby got into the house and drank from each can. The cream buyer didn’t approve of cream that contained cat hair.
Another time we had company for supper and all went outside before the table was cleared. The old cat got in and tried to jump onto the table, She didn’t quite make it but hung onto the table cloth and mat with her claws until she, the cloth, mat and dishes landed on the floor.
We allowed Toby in the gasoline station office but perhaps we shouldn’t have for she enjoyed walking across the cash register, depressing the keys and entering wild transactions which made it impossible to balance the day’s transactions without offsetting entries.
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