Stray cat update #I-lost-track

THE STRAY CAT SAGA (back issues of this saga are here. See the Caged Cat Cam here.)

So this whole stray cat thing goes on and on, as things do if you let them, if you are a dramaqueen.

Ugh. I am so fucking sick of ink blots.

If Chauncey was black and white, he'd look like this inkblot. But he's butterscotchy-ish.

It is a wee bit overwhelming having this little living being in my studio because I feel responsible for his emotional well-being and so I ask my therapist for advice but she just asks me what I think she should think that I should think and do. So, I look to fortune cookies and friends for advice.

(He who hurries cannot walk with dignity.” Thanks ever so much, that’s very helpful.)

Now that she’s a male I have named him Chauncey, as was the popular choice in my naming-the-cat poll the other day. Captain Marvel Chauncey, the amazing (<–for some reason which I don’t yet know, but am certain of) stray cat. Chauncey for short with Marvie as nickname-in-waiting. I mostly think of him as Chauncey but call him Marvie, which rhymes with Harvey which makes me think of spying on my parents’ grownup parties when they’d laugh and eat Harvey Wallbanger cake.

Colored cream cheese Harvey Wallbanger cake sandwiches in blankets

Colored cream cheese Harvey Wallbanger cake sandwiches in blankets

And wear maxi skirts and have little cocktail napkins with funny things on them and eat little colored cream cheese sandwiches. We’d crouch on the top steps to the finished basement and go running every time someone went up the stairs to use the bathroom. I’d help make the colored cream cheese sandwiches and little folded mushroom pastry things and marvel over the jello molds. See how it all comes together? Harvey, Marvel, Marvie, grownups, responsibility, raising a stray cat. But I was talking about the stray cat.

The new Catitat

The new Catitat

The Animal Control officer says that it is likely that Chauncey/Marvie had a home at one point and ran away or was lost since he determinedly gained access to our building from a tiny hole which has since been plugged up and which none of the other dozen or more neighborhood strays had found. I wonder if he was mistreated or is just a wanderer and couldn’t find his way back. I am so mad at “them” if they abused him, whoever “they” are. A**holes. Hurting a cat. But maybe it didn’t happen. I will let “them” off the hook, for now.

My Dentist

My Dentist. It occurs to me that use of the F word leads to use of the F word.

So I was happy to let him live in the maze-y rubble in the hallway outside my door and just be his room service person. But then I was forced to have him trapped, checked out, and fixed. Yes, I know this was the right thing to do but I didn’t want to cage him and traumatize him by having him forcibly carted off to a scary (to him) vet who was armed with needles and scalpels and the power to make him less male. So now that he is recovering from his fixing (and is shaved, making me wonder how I could possibly have missed that he is a male and has been all along) I have started thinking about the day – soon – when I will free him.

I’d kinda like my studio back as everything is shoved to one side, hindering access to it all, and a few things went into the basement for storage in order to accommodate this huge crate. He doesn’t like the sound of the dustbuster so I sweep when it is time for my biannual tidying. He lets me know of his likes and dislikes by hopping into his litterbox – insolently lying in his messes which freaks me out – and not getting out till I change whatever I am doing. He is training me. But I am willing to do whatever to make this poor little stray happy. I do think that he is happier living indoors than outside, where life was scavenging for food and dodging predators and not sardines on platters and bedtime stories (he loves The Practical Princess).

His Aunt Maureen, who sponsored a cat in his name – says he should be allowed to heal for seven days after surgery so that means this Wednesday-ish I could let him go. But today he was complaining about something so I told him that I would let him go early. Sometimes he cries a teeny bit and it stops immediately when I go sit near his cage and chat with him. But he will hiss once or twice to let me know he is not having any more of that car-ride bullshit with Auntie Animal Control Officer. I get it; that’s how I feel about my Dentist. And grammatical rules and proper punctuation.

Hilarious! I googled "Hang in there baby, Friday's coming" and one of the results was a link to my old newletter where I had mentioned trying to find that same image years ago. Ha! it went to this image. Which now links to that post. Round and round.

Hilarious! I googled "Hang in there baby, Friday's coming" and one of the results was a link to my old newsletter where I had mentioned trying to find that same image years ago. It went to this image. Which now links to that post. Round and round, this smirks me.

I got a few of the random men hanging about to bring up a sturdy metal table from the basement and set it up in the hallway outside my door. Under it I put a big cardboard box which I duct-taped closed with entrances on both ends, because this little less-male man is not likely to find himself in a trap of eventual emasculation again. I put familiar pillows and towels in it, which I dug out of one of his hiding places, and I covered the table with a big blanket so he has a secret hiding place within a hiding place. I put heavy soft paper as a flooring so under the table, but outside the box, so he would have a patio.

I opened the door to his crate – which is fully one whole side of the crate – and opened the door to the hallway and… nothing. He is not ready to leave. He hunkered down in his bedbox and just stared at me. I got well out of the way but still… no movement. So I closed it up and will wait. every day perhaps I will open it a bit and see if he goes. At the rate we are going, I might be able to pet him by next winter. Shit, did I invoke winter?

Next Stray Cat Update…

Caged Cat Cam…

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