I have two cats. I live alone. I hope i don’t grow up to be the crazy cat guy. I will get a dog before I let that happen.
Books on cats* say they can lead perfectly happy lives indoors. These same books also say that cats have never been tamed. Cats are still independent and retain their instinct to hunt etc. Aren’t these two positions in direct opposition? The inside of my house in no way replicates the wonders of the natural world. Cats were originally feral and have not been completly domesticated. Ergo, cats retain the desire to go outside and cannot be completly satisfied indoors.
*And when i say books on cats, what I really mean is Cats for Dummies. So my statements may be based on poor recollection, faulty logic, and bad science.
When I rescued my cats I had every intention of keeping them indoors. And for the most part of the past three years I kept them in the house. Occasionally they would sneak out after a late night on the town, when my reactions were a bit slow. They would be back the next day and I would re-resolve to keep them indoors. But the above paradox began to bother me. I though a little outside playtime would make them happier. It couldn’t hurt. So after a night out at the bar, I came home and the cats wanted to go out. In slightly slurred speech, I asked “You want to go out? Fine go out!”. I let them out and proceeded to pass out.
Charlie made it back the next day. Pixel, the cat who walks through walls, * didn’t make it back till several days later. There would be no more outdoor adventures for Pixel if I could help it (which sometime i cant’). But Charlie seemed to be a bit more responsible always making it back the next morning if he got out.
*The parents of a friend wanted to find a home for two homeless cats they had been feeding. I volunteered. I picked them up early Super Bowl Sunday 2005. Got them home, played with them, wasted time on the computer for a few hours. I noticed one of the cats was missing. I don’t have a big house. Not many places to hide. I searched the house. Walked up and down the street. Checked the crawlspace under my house. But I could not find the cat. I seriously questioned my sanity and thought about calling my friend to make sure i actually brought home two cats. I went to my parents house for the Super Bowl. When I got back that night I hear meowing. There is a small hole in my wall behind my oven. I checked that earlier, too small for a cat to fit though, right? Wrong. The newly christened Pixel was in my wall. Pixel’s last outdoor adventure ended after a week of him missing and me finding him in my attic(!?) a week later. That cat is NOT allowed outside anymore!
Charlie and I have developed a routine. I get up in the morning. Smoke a cigarette on the front porch while Charlie wanders around the front yard. He’ll claw at the tree branches in my yard. leave him outside while i get ready for work. By the time I’m ready for work Charlie is ready to come back inside.
Same routine today. Smoke a cigarette. Let Charlie out. Go inside to eat lunch/breakfast. Watch the Yankees game on the computer. Go back outside for another cigarette. I hear a muffled meow. Charlie struts onto the front porch with a bird in his mouth. I am horrified. Charlie is still attempting to meow. He wants to bring the bird inside. I think about throwing up. How am i going to get the bird out of his mouth? What sort of diseases is Charlie going to contract? As these scenarios play out in my head i see movement out of the corner of my eye. The bird flies off! The bird was not dead! Charlie chases after his quarry.
There are drops of bird blood on my porch.
