I’ll be foregoing my usual WTF Friday post today because I guest blogged over at Facebooking from the Edge, and was up until midnight writing that so I am completely out of acrimony. (Except for the tenant that I want to bludgeon to death with a hardbound copy of the landlord tenant law, but that’s a rant for another day.)
I got up this morning and immediately went to water my plants because it’s supposed to be pretty scorching today and all through the weekend.
I used to let the cat come outside with me and he’d happily sniff at the flowers and roll around in the cool morning breeze while I tended to the plants. That stopped for two reasons –
1. We have a birdfeeder now, and the mighty hunter has one hell of a vertical leap.
2. That vertical leap almost got him killed last year.
We live on the third story of an apartment building, and when I deadhead all my flowers, I usually toss them onto the lawn below where the neighborhood kids turn them into little wilted wreaths and bracelets, or the landscapers pick them up with the mowers. At one point, mighty hunter cat caught a glimpse of one of the flowers on its descent and mistook it for a bug or something, because all I heard was the mighty gong of something slamming into our wrought iron railing and then the cat was gone. He had cleared the 42″ railing and was staring up at me from the lawn below. At which point he rolled around in all his infinite cuteness before walking away to sniff everything.
Of course, I wasn’t wearing shoes, and I was flipping out and screaming one word exclamations at Ken who had no idea what had happened. “Cat! Railing! ESCAPED!” As soon as Ken put two and banana together, he ran downstairs and around the building to retrieve the cat while I tried to find shoes. Thankfully, the neighbor saw the cat and heard me flipping out and brought him inside her apartment, so he didn’t get far.
And that’s why cathole isn’t allowed outside anymore.
But he still perches miserably beside the screen door while I do my gardening and yowls pitifully because he is the victim of the great injustice of being locked inside. The yowling is so loud and mournful that people on the neighboring patios surely believe he’s being tortured or taking a painful dump.
I inadvertently located his off switch one day when I threw a petunia at him and told him to shut up. And he did. Because he was desperately trying to wedge his paw through the crack of the screen door to get that petunia. Now he won’t shut up until I give him a flower to roll around with and chew on.
My manly cat is a flaming homo.