I first had the pleasure of Callie Coe’s company on January 27th.
I jotted down the phone number on her identity tag in my notebook and called the owner to make sure he knew where his lovely cat had spent the day, just in case she was being missed.
Apparently she lives rough in the apartment courtyard and the man I spoke to was planning to incorporate her into his family when they moved and,
“Yes, we are feeding her.”
The next time we invited her in her collar was gone.
For the whole of February we welcomed her whenever she sat and loudly mewed outside our patio door.
We didn’t feed her.
We played with her.
We enjoyed her loud purring.
We appreciated her cuddles on our laps.
We watched her through the window interact with a number of dogs that happened along her patch of turf on any given day.
She came to sleep, on our bed, our computers and in doorways between rooms where Hubs and I were working and she couldn’t decide whom she wanted to keep a paw on.
Hubs didn’t want to encourage her but I reasoned,
“We’re leaving soon so let’s enjoy her while she’s here.”
I started feeding her tiny amounts of leftovers, outside on the patio, turkey chili,
“She ate chili?” one of my friends asked.
“Yes, she must be hungry, hominy and all!” I agreed.
Last week, six weeks after Callie first crossed our threshold, I decided she probably wasn’t being fed anymore, no collar, no responsibility, so I bought her some food and she ran circles around my ankles.
I gave her the recommended daily amount for her weight and she head-butted my hand in her rush to wolf it down.
At lunch time I gave her another daily allowance since she sat and mewed very loudly up at me and you would have thought she hadn’t eaten in a month of Sundays, which she probably hadn’t.
She slept, she wandered outside to check in with her canine friends, she returned and mewed for more food.
“She’s using us,” said Hubs.
“She’s starving.”
“No-one’s feeding her.” We watched her gulp down every last bite.
She brought us a lizard to contribute to her food bill.
After a week there was a visible difference in her slight frame, she was packing on the pounds and hanging out most of the day with her chosen chums,
Eat, eat, eat, that’s all she did when she wasn’t napping.
We took to leaving her to guard the house while we went out.
“I’ll take her to the shelter to see if she’s been spayed, they’ll clip her ear and then release her to help keep the mouse population down.”
“She’s too loving and pretty to become an official stray,” I said as she squeaked softly into my pillow.
“She needs a good home where she can be adopted and loved and looked after,” Hubs said while she batted his mouth with her paw.
“I think she’s decided to adopt us,” I pointed out as she draped her front leg over my hand.
“What if she’s already pregnant, her tummy feels as full as a tick’s.”
My ears pricked up,
“If she’s pregnant she needs 4 times the food recommendation, should I google ‘how do I know when my cat is having kittens?'”
“Not your cat,” Hubs reminded me as he tossed her a paper ball.
Then she stayed the night!
Today she’s left food from her daily allowance to nibble on at intervals.
Her eating binge appears to have slowed.
She no longer looks poised to run as she hunches over her Meow Mix.
She trusts us to look after her.
She is not at all fussy that her dinnerware is an empty parmesan tub paired with a whipped cream cheese container.
While we can’t take Callie Coe with us when we leave we will make provision for her.
She’s too lovely to be left to roam.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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