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Hicks: Who let the *%$@?# cat out?

By Tony Hicks
Thursday, November 11th, 2010 at 11:53 am in Uncategorized.

So I moved more than a month ago, but have been going back to my old house every day to feed the cat, who decided she didn’t want to go with us. Yeah, I know – it’s probably me. And no, no one lives there yet, though it’s only a matter of time.

Anyway, the cat – named Fatty, which I don’t understand, as she’s not fat, but I wasn’t there – is an outdoor cat. Animal rights people, stop typing right now. I didn’t make her that way. A dog did. 

So Fatty is a sweet cat, but extremely wary of people, which makes sense to any of us who have taken the time to get to know any people. She seems especially wary of people who try shoving her into a cat carrier (me) and instead get scratched (me again). Every time I’ve tried to catch her, it’s taken me at least a week to get her trust back enough to touch her again. Which is a problem I’ve also had with women over the years, come to think of it.

So yesterday morning I opened the front door and, while she was eating on the porch, tossed her inside the house and closed the door. I got her a litter box and gave her food, and – because I can communicate with all animals -pet her a bunch and apologized for her incarceration. Then I told her I’d be back with her mommy (I think that’s my wife, but I’m not sure) and we’d figure out how to get her home safely.

Now our house hasn’t closed, but the new buyer has done some work and I know the occasional real estate agent has been through. I believe they’re supposed to tell us when they do but anyone who has the cohonas to put their face on shopping cart ads sometimes forgets they don’t need to ask.

This morning I grabbed a blanket and headed up to see the kitty. I was going to make her a little bed until I can buy one which, in theory, she’d bond with and make her transition easier. I know – I’m fantastically insightful when it comes to both children and beasts.

So I walk in, look around and … no cat.

I looked everywhere. She hadn’t eaten much food and the litter box was unused. So, unless the old girl suddenly learned how to do a reverse Santa up the chimney, I’m guessing some fool walked into the house without permission and let her out.

And, yes, I’d made a little sign for the door this morning, asking anyone possessing the nads to enter without asking permission, to be careful not to let Fatty escape. I meant to do this yesterday, but had a tremendous amount of work and – surprise – had to spend three hours at home while my cable was finally being installed. At least I got that going for me.

So Fatty is outside again (I think – I haven’t actually seen her since the escape) our house will close soon, and I’m back to square one. My good friend Gary Bogue – who knows almost as much about animals as I do – is advising me. Suddenly I’m hoping the house doesn’t close anytime soon so I can get my cat.

I just hope Fatty, at the very least, channeled her inner mountain lion and gave yesterday’s intruder a good swipe. They have one coming.

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2 Responses to “Hicks: Who let the *%$@?# cat out?”

  1. Mary R Says:

    Oh, Tony! I have never been a fan of cats, but I truly hope you get Fatty back. You are too good of a “Daddy” to leave permanently.
    Fatty is probably looking for the dude who leaves her some food and pets her with oven mitts and played a harrowing new game with her, closing her indoors. Now, she’s saying, “Tag! You’re It!!”
    And, congrats on (finally) getting hooked up to cable. Stories like yours are why we have a dish…

  2. The Sonia Show Says:

    Just so you know, Tony, Fatty’s full name is Fatty Fat Fat Fat. Michelle named her after a rather obscure “Simpsons” quote:

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