October 20, 2016 – “Cat here in a no name slob” 

          Perhaps you recognize that line.  It is from the final six minutes of the movie Breakfast at Tiffany’s starring Audrey Hepburn, [Holly Golightly] and George Peppard [Paul Varjak]. Every time I watch this movie I pay more attention to the cat in the final embrace in the pouring rain in a rubbish filled alley way in New York City than the two actors.

          “No-name-slob” is picked up by Holly Golightly and shoved into the open lapels of her classic trench coat.  What a lucky wet, orange cat.

          When the stars embrace and kiss ‘No-name-slob” turns and looks directly into the camera.  That face, that wet cat’s face simply tugs at my heart strings every time.  It never fails.   Then the song comes up . . . Moon River. . . 

          We have a new feral cat.  Or perhaps I should word that differently, a “No-name-slob” imposter has adopted us.   He acts just like he stepped out of that rain soaked New York Alley.  And, he is a dead ringer for “Cat” as Holly Golightly called him.  He has that same pouty face.

How do feral cats innately know who will feed them? 

          “Cat” has been around several weeks now.  He chirps and trots around behind my husband every morning while the bird feeders are filled.  He also has made claim to the real estate along the back walk that is out of the wind.  Most of the time you can find him curled up in the cinnamon colored pine needle mulch which makes him almost unnoticeable as he blends in.

          My husband calls him ‘Tom cat’ which is the same name he has used for the last 18 years for all male feral cats.  I prefer to call him ‘Golden eyes’ because when he sees me he opens and closes those golden eyes in an affectionate way.  Of course he doesn’t come to the name ‘Golden eyes’ yet, but I am hopeful.

          “Cat” is smart.  When it is cool, he jumps on the black canvas roof of my husband’s jeep where the canvas has sucked up the warmth from the sun’s rays.   “Cat” curls up to sleep there and it is warm and safe from predators as he can easily watch from such a vista.

          A day or so ago, as he was sleeping on the jeep roof, a small plane drones overhead in the clear blue autumn sky.  Cat opens his eyes and locates it.  How does he know to search the sky for it? Smart cat.

          He had to be someone’s pet as he lets us pat him and rubs against us.  He is a fussy eater, just like a house cat, who prefers the 70 cents a can brand over the 46 cents a can cat food. And, he prefers canned food, not “cat cheerios” as we call dry food.  So, we know he was someone’s kitty . . . but now he seems to want to live with us.

          “Cat” will hear us moving around in the house early in the a.m. and he will come sit patiently peering in the kitchen patio window letting us know he is there and wants to be feed.  In the last few weeks, he showed up one morning with fight marks from maintaining domination of his new found territory.  Of course, “Cat” won’t tell us who beat him up.  But, he let my husband doctor his wounds with wound healing cream.   What a trusting cat.

          When we spend time out on the patio, he acts like a tame house cat. He jumps on a nearby patio chair, rolls upside down with his chin to the sky and sleeps. He is so completely relaxed around us.  Listening to our conversation he re-adjusts and stretches out totally content and flexes his paws wide open and then closed, wide open and then closed over and over again. 

          My husband pointed out, “He’d make a good bread maker or brick layer with those paws.”

          So, “No-name-Slob” or “Cat” or “Tom Cat” or maybe even “Golden Eyes” looks like he has made a home here and weaseled his way into our hearts and is going to stay a while.