So, if you know anything about me, I am unabashedly a dog person. I melt over fluffy soft puppies, giggle endlessly as clumsy adolescent dogs trip over their feet, and appreciate the overwhelming affection from my own dogs. Yeah, I complain about them waking me at night and pooping the floor, but I'd complain about anyone who woke me at night and pooped on my floor, so don't even think about it! OK?
I am not a cat person. It's not that I don't like the animals, but my histamines think they're deadly and I can't stand the itching and sneezing and wheezing that comes with feline exposure.
However, I detest mice -- enough that my loathing for rodents has overpowered my allergic instincts. This lead to last weekend's great cat caper.
My mom (a cat person... and a dog person) captured two farm cats from her friend's farm -- two animals used to living outdoors and mousing -- exactly what we needed. Better yet, one of them appears to have been neutered at some point, so bonus for us only having to spay/neuter the other. And they have their claws -- completely necessary for outdoor living.
Grandma arrived with the cats, one of whom has pooped in a carrier and one of whom has puked in another carrier. We gently extract the poopy cat, turns out he's the neutered one. I gave him a once over and promptly named him Tabi because he is gray and has white socks. Tabi is the traditional Japanese toe-sock shoes and it completely looks like he's wearing them. Not to mention, naming a cat Socks is so Bill Clinton circa 1992 and that's not quite retro enough for me.
The other cat needs much more persuasion to exit the carrier. It takes one look at the five of us standing around (me, Scott, kids and Grandma) and bolts into the flat bean field behind out garage, flying across the road and disappearing into a cornfield. We have not seen this cat since then.
But Tabi? Well, he's a friendly little fellow, cries when we all go in the house, runs to greet us when we get home, weaves between our legs purring. He likes us. My kids adore him, particularly Violet. Since coming to live here, Tabi has caught two mice (of which we know). How do I know? Scott has stuck his head into my shower to let me know, like a news bulletin or something.
So maybe this old dog-girl can learn some new tricks after all -- like liking a cat. Will wonders never cease?
Oh -- in case you're looking for a picture of the fellow, I haven't taken any yet. I'm lazy that way. Maybe someday...