Who turned on the bright light? Wow! Waking up is hard to do.
Well, now Cherokee was in the house. I said that he hid for quite some time. During that time, he came out at night while Mom was sleeping and stole food and water and used the litter box. I kept telling the fool that it was okay and that she wouldn't hurt him, but he was never one to believe me or anyone else. Finally he came out - very gradually. The first time Mom noticed him, she woke up during the night and saw him standing in the bedroom doorway, just staring at her. A few days later, she woke up and saw him standing at the foot of the bed. She said later that he looked very big and she wasn't sure what she had got herself into. Many times I've heard her say that most people won't adopt a feral born cat, but that she found us to be the sweetest, gentlest, most loving cats she has ever seen. I'll second that! Also the most gorgeous!
Anyway, before too long, Cherokee was sleeping on Mom's bed, much to my dismay. Sometimes I would go and sleep somewhere else in protest, but no one took any notice. Mom seemed to like it when both of us were there with her on the bed. Cherokee was almost always by her feet, while I was covering her back. I really needed to sleep at night, because it got to the point where Cherokee was constantly playing and bothering me during my nap time. The silly goof! We often got into small battles about it and Mom would come home to large clumps of fur around the house.
There were other cats downstairs from us. We lived on the third floor of a triple-decker and Mom's daughter (would you call her my step-sister?) lived on the second floor. She had four cats, all of them perfectly hateful. They always growled and hissed, except for one (her name was Millie) who occasionally would come upstairs and sniff around a little. The one called "Mr. Purr" was particularly hateful and we truly hated each other.
We used to spend a lot of time in the windows there. We had two bay windows to use, as well as a number of others. It was nice sometimes during the summer to lie in the open window (with screens for safety) and get some fresh air and to snoop on some of the neighborhood happenings. Once in a while, Mom would let us out on the back porch, but she was always afraid that we would fall off the railing and break something when we would hit the ground. Never happened!
One day, Mom went away for a few days. She said she was going to Arizona for an AG (whatever that is). When she got back, she told everyone that we were going to move to Phoenix. It didn't sound like a good idea, but I thought maybe it was a phase and would pass. How wrong I was! I almost never am wrong, but there is always a first time for everything. After a little while, Mom started putting things in boxes, and then a man came and put more stuff in boxes. The next day, some other men came and took all our furniture and all the boxes away. We ended up sleeping downstairs where the other cats were. We had our own room, though. After a day or two, Mom made us get into the boxes (much to our distress) and we were put into the car. Very traumatic! Mom let us out of the boxes after she stopped for some coffee so that we could walk around. I went around the car one way, and Cherokee went the other way. The poor klutz tripped over her coffee and spilled most of it on the floor. He also stepped in the water bowl and got water all over. Sheesh!!! After we calmed down a little, we went into the back where all Mom's houseplants were and settled down on the greenery, as we rolled off down the road.
Well, I feel a nap attack coming on, so I will continue some other day.
Yours,
Apache
No comments:
Post a Comment