Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Wellington the Last
Wellington is the last cat in the house at night. He will not come when called if it is after three in the afternoon because he believes that I will make him come in. While it is not always true that I want him in at that moment, it is true that I would like him to come in before dark. My other cats trot into the house on command. Even Gamma who adores being outside, dutifully comes when called.
Wellington lurks under the yellow jasmine where he can survey the yard and keep an eye on me. If I have the audacity to invade the jasmine, he trots across the yard, tail high, to the nandina near the house. Further pursuit on my part results in his disappearance under the house. I live in an old house with a pier and beam foundation. There is no basement, just a skirted space under the house where the cats retreat.
Wellington does have one weakness: catnip. If I am really desparate, I can bribe him with a fresh sprig of catnip. This almost always works. Wellington has dealt with his weakness. He simply leaves the front yard long before I search for him. I do not know where he goes although I suspect my neighbor's fenced and locked yard.
The result of all these tactics is that Wellington is the last cat in at night. Once darkness falls, Wellington will come when called. Well, maybe not the first time. If I have been unsuccessful after several tries, I can get in my car and drive around the block. Wellington always comes to meet the car.
As I come up the sidewalk, he lies down in front of me. He wants to be picked up and carried in while being told what a wonderful cat he is. There is only one problem; Wellington weighs in at twenty pounds. He is a lot for an arthritic with a bad hip to handle. My doctor has forbidden me to carry heavy bags of litter or cat food because he fears my bad hip may fail. (I had a bone disease as a child.) I have never told my doctor about Wellington. He probably suspects.
I only have to carry Wellington to the door. He expects to be put down so that he can strut into the house. Once inside, he heads straight to the dry food bowl. He snacks for a moment, then begins his evening patrol of the house. Once satisfied that all his subjects are properly subservient, he takes his place on top of the refrigerator.
Wellington is not the first out in the morning. I think he believes that would be beneath his dignity.
Wellington lurks under the yellow jasmine where he can survey the yard and keep an eye on me. If I have the audacity to invade the jasmine, he trots across the yard, tail high, to the nandina near the house. Further pursuit on my part results in his disappearance under the house. I live in an old house with a pier and beam foundation. There is no basement, just a skirted space under the house where the cats retreat.
Wellington does have one weakness: catnip. If I am really desparate, I can bribe him with a fresh sprig of catnip. This almost always works. Wellington has dealt with his weakness. He simply leaves the front yard long before I search for him. I do not know where he goes although I suspect my neighbor's fenced and locked yard.
The result of all these tactics is that Wellington is the last cat in at night. Once darkness falls, Wellington will come when called. Well, maybe not the first time. If I have been unsuccessful after several tries, I can get in my car and drive around the block. Wellington always comes to meet the car.
As I come up the sidewalk, he lies down in front of me. He wants to be picked up and carried in while being told what a wonderful cat he is. There is only one problem; Wellington weighs in at twenty pounds. He is a lot for an arthritic with a bad hip to handle. My doctor has forbidden me to carry heavy bags of litter or cat food because he fears my bad hip may fail. (I had a bone disease as a child.) I have never told my doctor about Wellington. He probably suspects.
I only have to carry Wellington to the door. He expects to be put down so that he can strut into the house. Once inside, he heads straight to the dry food bowl. He snacks for a moment, then begins his evening patrol of the house. Once satisfied that all his subjects are properly subservient, he takes his place on top of the refrigerator.
Wellington is not the first out in the morning. I think he believes that would be beneath his dignity.
Labels: cats, night, outdoors, yellow jasmine
# posted by January Cat @ 9:05 PM 
