Cat crazy days of winter…

Meet Bella, our cat.

Meet Bella, our cat.

I’m not a cat person. Bella came into our lives as a kitten, rescued by our son and his friend one cold winter day about seven years ago.

She was born of a stray, under the house of one of their friends, destined to freeze to a horrible chunk of cat ice if we did not take her in. “I’m not taking care of her, she’s your responsibility”

Famous last words.

Bella seemed normal, until she didn’t. She had a seizure, then another. Shortly after I partook of a LCHF way of eating, I started cooking offal and meat, often in bone broth for her. Switching her sometimes to sardines, tuna, mackerel, occasional oysters, and the strangest thing happened. She hasn’t had a seizure in we don’t remember how long.

I cook for Bella because going back to {insert any wet or dry cat food here, we tried them all before putting her on real food} would most likely result in her having seizures again. Anyways, she has kinda grown on us, so I don’t mind spending a small portion of my time cooking cat food.

I’m still not a cat person.

Lately though, I’ve been pondering which came first, the crazy or the cat in crazy cat lady.

About a month ago a stripy cat was sitting on our porch, then sleeping in our basement, with our dog (who is most def not a cat person). Since it’s cold this time a year, I tried finding her family (to no avail) on facebook.

Stripy cat. She's nice, polite, I can't believe her family would leave her or just drop her off.

Stripy cat. She’s nice, polite, I can’t believe her family would leave her or just drop her off.

Anyways, I don’t feed stripy cat. With the exception of left-overs, Biscuit is more than happy to share his dog food bowl, provided he is not around it when she gets hungry. She has managed full roam of the underneath of the house, beyond the basement. I’ve not missed any of the camel crickets or field mice that normally find a way indoors during these cold months.

I’m still not a cat person.

Shortly after stripy cat showed up on the porch, there was a big black cat sitting on the hot tub. For a while I thought that maybe the crazy came first and I was seeing things, no one ever saw the black cat, well until Biscuit saw him one day and told him to get the heck out of Dodge.

Over the past few years, occasionally, we would glimpse a white cat, like Bella, only larger, walking along the creek way back. More recently, this winter, he’s been coming to our house, never on the porch, and spooks easy. I really think he is one of Bella’s siblings, except he has battle scars.

I’m crossing my fingers that all these cats don’t turn me into a cat person, especially a crazy one, when Bob shows up.

This is Bob. Because he looks like a bobcat, even has a stubby tail.

This is Bob. Because he looks like a bobcat, even has a stubby tail.

It is hard for me to believe that Bob is an outdoor cat, much less a stray cat. He is bold, he may be a she, I’ve not been close enough, but he is not scared to come on the porch.

Bob hiding behind Ms. Piggy's apron.

Bob hiding behind Ms. Piggy’s apron.

He is scared to go in the back yard, Biscuit does not like him either. I don’t think we need to worry about Bob getting in the basement, but seriously if he doesn’t miss his family, I bet he misses the indoors and food.

Yesterday afternoon, as I sat on the porch reading, another cat ventured into the yard. This one is really fat, really furry, white with big brown splotches. Too elusive for the camera, think dairy cow morphed into a cat with shaggy hair.

The cats are driving me crazy. I am not a cat person, so you can maybe see my dilemma. If crazy came first, I may very well be on my way to being a cat person…

On a serious note, it’s cold outside. If you have pets, keep them warm, keep them fed, and keep up with them. Of all the strays hanging around lately, only the white battle scarred cat looks like he is really truly stray.

 

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7 thoughts on “Cat crazy days of winter…

  1. Keep calm, do not worry, you are NOT a cat person! You are simply a compassionateness!
    You’ll know when you are a cat person…. or only the cats will know, that’s more important! LOL! 😉

    • Cats really aren’t that bad(did I just type that out-loud?) They’re just bossy. I can handle Bella, she’ll be stalking the fridge, under my feet when I’m making dinner, and I say “Go tell Meagan to feed you”. She’ll come back downstairs, go to the fridge again, and just look at me like she’s saying “I can’t believe I fell for that”.

  2. See, cats are like that. They have this evil intuition. They know when you are either: 1) Not a cat person or, 2) Allergic. Then they are drawn to you like a moth to a flame. I hear this every time (in the voice of the bad witch from the Wizard of Oz): I’ll get you, my human! Then they look all innocent, meow, and try to rub on my leg. Evil, I’m telling you! lol

    • I believe that!!! I think living with Bella has helped me to be not so allergic, in the beginning, I would always be congested. We’ve got another round of winter weather coming this evening, I hope the cats have found their way back home (haven’t seen any this morning). I don’t want the to turn into chunks of cat-ice, but I’m still not a cat person!!!

    • When cats are ignored they think you are a very polite and well educated person and they become very interested in you because they love polite and well educated people. I lived for nearly 17 years with a cat who used to convince lots of polite people to become cat persons. I always had to check the baggage when they left to prevent them stealing this guy from me, LOL!

      • Now I understand why Bella behaves like she does sometimes. The only cat that showed up today was the stripy cat. The snow has almost melted again, so I thought maybe they found their way home. My neighbor came by earlier and said “You wouldn’t believe all the cats hanging out at my house today”. I said yeah and told her about them being here. Then she saw the chicken and bacon cooking and the broccoli tortillas cooling and said “what’s that?” I said “don’t you read my blog?” lol.

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