Our cat Slash is losing his fur. He resembles a possum. The vet attributes this to stress. The stress may be stemming from constant battles with a band of semi-feral cats that roam our neighborhood.
We were mystified by them until a neighbor clued us in to what everyone else knew. Seems there was one of those crazy cat ladies down the block. Her hubby came home from work early and decided to take a leisurely swim. He found her buns-up kneeling in the cabana with---who else---the pool boy.
Enraged, he threw the whore out and then proceeded to throw all her cats out too. It isn't clear what he did with the pool boy or if he started cleaning the pool himself. Maybe he boo-fooed him for good measure.
These cats were ill-equipped to deal with the al fresco lifestyle. For one thing, they were obese. For another, they'd all been declawed. Many perished, but alas, not all. The colony bred amongst themselves, producing the clawed, outdoor-inured kitties that torment poor three-legged Slash. But some of the original declawed fat cats remain.
One of them came with our house. We first noticed it on the second night. We were eating dinner at the breakfast nook, having promised not to use the formal dining room unless entertaining our imaginary guests. He appeared on the ledge of our bay window, like a shimming, wide-eyed apparition. He scared my son a little. He dubbed the cat Ghost.
Now I have long maintained that to own more than one cat is to stray into crazy cat lady territory. I refused to allow Ghost in our home. But my wife took pity on him and made the cardinal mistake of feeding him in the carport. This not only kept Ghost hanging around but also attracted his brethren from the semi-feral colony. The lean, mean second-generation kitties would often beat the fat, clawless Ghost in fights and steal his food. In response he'd squawk at my wife, because he doesn't really know how to meow. She'd feed him more which attracted more feral cats which sparked more food fights and so on.
She even insulated a cat carrier and put blankets in there to make him more comfortable. The semi-ferals have taken up residence.
I go out to the carport to smoke. Ghost tries to rub up against my leg in a feigned stab at being affectionate. Ah but I know better. He's just trying to guilt-trip me into feeding him, because my wife has taken a job and often forgets to do so. I am thinking that maybe we can starve him out and he will eventually leave. No such luck so far. He just squawks louder and more maniacally as he rubs up against my leg and chases me all around the carport like some sex-starved husband chasing his post-menopausal wife around the bedroom.
For a time we did allow him in for a trial visit. He didn't get along too well with our #1 cat. And he shit and pissed all over our dirty laundry piles. We feared that he'd start soiling the clean laundry pile and we'd wind up going to work reeking of cat piss with cat turds lodged in our pockets. So we threw him out just as cabana man had done years before. To this day he lurks by the door, hoping to slip in and hightail it for the laundry piles. When the imaginary visitors come over he manages to do just that. They act disgusted when we hunt Ghost down and throw him into the carport.
I am thinking about killing him. Or else maybe I'll go on a feral kitty killing spree. And I suspect my son is feeding him on the sly, as he sure hasn't dropped any weight.
You let your wife take a job? Who's gonna bake the pies?
by Me at February 19, 2006 5:46 PM
The cabana man is still feeding the cat... probably with pool boy leftovers.
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 19, 2006 7:44 PM
Me. I'll bake the pies. Now if I could only master the art of gravy.
Hey NCO it's tit for tat. In Korea, the waiter will bring a live dog to your table and cook it with an acetalyne torch, to perfection. Mmmmm... terrier.
by anna at February 20, 2006 7:48 AM
You know you mentioned this pussy a year ago. Have you been fantasizing about killing it for this long, but have never actually found the right frame of mind needed to do it or something? Heh. If so, me thinks you have the actual method down to a tee. Twelve months of devising the best way to kill a cat, it's gotta be a gem! Unless you repeatedly envisaged the cat in the bag, over the bridge scenario. :(
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 20, 2006 10:53 AM
So she had them declawed, but not spayed or neutered? That's fucked-up cat ownership.
Also, turfing house cats is a horrible thing to do -- as you noted, they're not equipped to deal with the outdoors, though I wouldn't say the declawing is the reason for that. Fighting cats use their teeth and back feet for most of their really good attacks.
by Jen X at February 21, 2006 7:28 AM
Yeah, everyone loves a good catfight. And no I haven't decided how to off the interloper. I do know a PI who threw steaks with razor blades embedded in them into a yard. This killed two pit bulls that would have killed him filming cabana antics.
by anna at February 21, 2006 7:49 AM
Madness, I say...
These felines, they carry a mystical quality...
...you let one in your house, you either let in a vampire... or you masturbate as it licks its fur...
by LOCKHEED at February 21, 2006 6:11 PM
Sick, man. Sick! Unless I picture a stunningly attractive woman reclining on cotton sheets with legs akimbo and eyes on the cat... well... then it's just... it's just... aaaaaahhh! Oooh! *sleeps*
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 22, 2006 8:24 AM
Just catch the thing and take it for a ride. Drop it off somewhere far enough away that it won't find its way back.
Or, maybe, you should off it anyway. Parasites on the brain is bad.
by MrBlank at February 22, 2006 10:05 AM
from the words of the prophet were written on the stoop of the wall.... concert hall...
Remember the days when Linz used to masturbate to cats on cocaine....?
Remember the Glory Days of BadSam...
by LOCKHEED at February 22, 2006 9:33 PM
Do You Remember
When We Fell In Love
We Were Young
And Innocent Then
Do You Remember
How It All Began
It Just Seemed Like Heaven
So Why Did It End?
Man Lock you're making me cry!!
by Long Time Lurker at February 23, 2006 10:03 AM
I think it would always find its way back. They've got like, catfood radar or something. We need a Final Solution!
by anna at February 23, 2006 6:34 PM
To clarify, I thought that when we had moved (we first saw him through the window) that when we had left our old cat George, who we left there (he was in a similar predicament to the current situation of Ghost) had somehow died and come back to haunt us. This cat was in fact the obese cat now dubbed Ghost. And no Dad, I don't feed him on the sly, I feed him on the open to make him shut up. Annoying little croaks...
by Ian at February 23, 2006 6:41 PM
Open defiance! Beee-yay!
If you hear a rustling in the bushes nearby when you go out to feed the cat... that's probaby Lockheed. Mind you, the croaks are probably his too. I imagine a declawed three legged cat is an easy target... *shiver*
by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at February 24, 2006 12:52 AM