An unwelcomed visitor…
When I moved into my home in this beautiful, quaint little town, I thought I had actually moved into heaven. My house stood at the end of a cul-de-sac, which was inviting, very clean, and very quiet. Vewy, vewy quiet and I liked that one aspect of living here. No barking dogs; no whining babies; no kids at play screaming in the street; no drive-by shootings; and no cats that I could see. Mind you, I am not a cat person. Never have been. Never will be. I don’t hate cats. I just don’t like them. They flaunt too much attitude to exist in my environment. I love dogs. Always have and always will.
My new nest suited me just fine. I felt more relaxed and contented as I slowly settled in. One day, I went out to my front porch and stood there, just marveling at the awesome scenery as lush green fir trees covered the mountains in the distance. I took in deep breaths of fresh, rejuvenating alpine air. At that very moment, all was right with the world with me, that is until the melodic Sound of Music lullaby playing in my head came to a screeching halt…EEERRRRRTT!!! What caused this, you ask? I spotted a lifelong nemesis of mine: a cat. A fat furry cat. Mouth agape, I froze in disbelief. He spotted me eyeing him from across the street as I stood on my porch. I waited and watched him, wishing that it would go away. But my repulsive vibe didn’t seem to ruffle this feline’s fur one bit.
We stared at each other for a challenging minute like two rival gunslingers getting ready to shoot it out at the OK Corral. But for some reason, he got cold paws about his next move. He turned around and disappeared into some shrubbery next to a house across the street. Wimp! Naively, I thought the short standoff with this feline foe would be the end of my experience with it. I dismissed ever having another encounter with it, even thinking that maybe it belonged to someone in the neighborhood who would hopefully keep it locked up for the entire time I would be living here.
A few days later, the bold cat popped in on my street again, wisely remaining at a safe distance from me. Since I saw no collar with ID tags or around its neck, I pegged it as a stray, which is even worse. To me, that meant that it probably has had no shots, has no permanent home, and that it was free to roam the neighborhood at will to squat when and where ever it wanted to. A squatter cat! HA! Mentally, I quickly made note of some plans for my strategy to keep it away from me and my area. Let me reiterate that I don’t hate cats, I just don’t like ’em no matter how cute and cuddly they may look. This one was fat and looked healthy, so some bleeding heart residents must have fed it very well.
A few weeks later, the creepy cat appeared in my neighborhood again. I saw it as it poked its head out from behind a parked car across the street to take a peek at me. Seemingly sizing me up before it moved, it crept stealthily to my side of the street like a jungle predator stalking its prey. Moving toward my driveway, it had nerve enough to scamper up my steps as if it lived here or I had invited it to approach me. No chance of that happening! I stood still as it reached my porch. It stopped a foot away from me to stare at me for a split second, probably sniffing out what kind of vibe radiated from my death stare. Then it moved closer towards me, gently brushed up against my legs and roamed around my feet. I glared at it, producing a ‘get the hell away from me’ expression, but it showed absolutely no fear at my contorted face. I stood still as it continued its dance between my legs and around my feet. WTF? I didn’t say anything to shoo it away. I just watched it to see how much braver it would dare to be and what else was on its fucking furry agenda. Grimacing and clenching my fists, I screamed silently to the heavens, “NOOOOoooo,” rolling my eyes as I did so. But I remained standing still as it made its way around my legs again.
Without being heartless, I would have given it a snack or something, but I don’t stock any cat food in my house. I had some Chicklets in my pocket, but I didn’t think that the cat would appreciate the refreshing taste of peppermint gum. Besides, I didn’t want to encourage it to come back for any future free meals from me. I sensed that it felt that much about me. In spite of my obvious disdain of felines, for some reason, this cat seemed purrfectly comfortable around me. I waited until it finished its assessment of me and watched as it finally released itself from my legs and scampered down my steps and disappeared off into the neighborhood. I yelled, “STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU BRAZEN LITTLE FUR BALL.” It didn’t even look back.