Most barn cats are somewhere between feral and friendly. Ours, because they are friendly, qualify as pets. This means visits to the vet and medications and surgeries. As a result, somehow all three barn cats have worked their way into the house for a night or two. (If we weren’t allergic to cats, they’d be inside full time.)
Last month Eddie had what we called his ‘man-surgery.’ (He requested that I do not take photos of his missing testicles. ) Because it was so darned cold outside, the vet suggested he spend the night in the house while he was recovering. So Eddie sat in our entry way, watching us for hours through the glass door. I felt like I was an exhibit in a zoo.
Then little Maisie had her surgery as well. (She also requested no photos, since she’s a bit sensitive about her naked, shaved belly.) Because this was more extensive surgery, Maisie spent two nights in the entry way, watching us for hours through the glass door. Back in the zoo again.
Then Pumpkin showed up with a 1/4 inch hole in his arm. Melissa was concerned, but the hole looked clean and manageable. (Did you know that a cat, by licking a 1/4 inch hole in his arm, can turn it into a 1 1/2 inch by 1 inch hole? Yowza.) When she realized the hole was bigger, Melissa brought Pumpkin into the entry way for some care. I never took a class in How to Restrain a Cat, so it was a bit nerve-wracking to hold him while Melissa bandaged the arm. At the vet’s suggestion, Melissa put a plastic container over his head so he couldn’t pull the bandage off.
I am a cat whisperer. I can look into a cat’s eyes and tell you what he or she is thinking. Take Pumpkin, for instance. At the very moment the photo below was taken, Pumpkin was thinking something like this:
“When I get this g**d*** cottage cheese container off my head, I will kill you.”
Pumpkin, too, spent a night in the entry way, watching us through the glass door.
All the cats were very happy to be released from their heated prison, but this winter when the temperature drops WAY below zero, as it always does in Minnesota, what will I do if all three kitties show up at the front door, asking to spend another night in the Cat House Hotel?
I suspect that I, The Spineless Wonder, will take some Benadryl for my allergies, and let them in.