The last time we spoke, I told you about when Spike and Dinsmore got into quite a scrape. Dinsmore got carted away by the humans but instead of disappearing forever, he came back and was ushered into the humans' home – leaving Spike and I wondering how he, of all cats, found such fortune.
After we watched Dinsmore go inside, Spike and I just looked at each other. “Well, that little son of a gun,” said Spike before slinking off to his usual sleeping spot. It was getting dark, cold and damp so I should’ve been finding a place to sleep too, but I just sat there, under the bushes, staring at the house and thinking about the day when I would find a human family to live with.
I had been out on the streets for some time, I don’t remember how long. One day, the humans I used to live with put me outside in the morning like they always did and I went about my day . . . napping here, rousting about there. I noticed a lot of activity at the house when I would check back in and tried to get inside to see what was going on, but they kept shooing me away.
At dinnertime, I went to the back door like I always did but something didn’t seem right. It was too quiet. I didn’t smell any food, or see any humans. I called out but no one came to the door. I sat there all night but no one moved inside the house or came into the driveway in their big car. It was like that for a few days. I got very hungry and kinda scared. I had never been on my own before and didn’t know what to do. I went to the house next door but they didn’t want anything to do with me. I went to the next house and they yelled at me. I kept going to other houses, to see if maybe my humans were in a different place, but no one ever seemed to want me. Before I knew it, I was lost.
Many days went by. Sometimes I found something to eat on the street, but mostly I was pretty hungry. Sometimes houses I went to had other cats that fought with me, chasing me even further away from the streets that I knew. One day I almost got hit by one of those cars and found a safe place to hide near some tires in a field. I stayed there for a couple of days not knowing what to do. One the third day, I decided to try again to find food and that was when I met Spike.
He was foraging in a pile of trash. I was so hungry that I didn’t have any fear about going to see what was there. This big, orange cat started making noise at me, but I remember telling him that I wasn’t interested in fighting, I needed help. Surprisingly, his tail started defluffing and simply started flagging a mildly irritated flick. After nearly an hour, he let me come closer and share his meal. Spike probably saved my life.
I showed him my safe sleeping spot near the tires and invited him to stay with me, telling him that we were safer together than alone. He took me up on it and we stayed up very late, sharing stories about where we had come from. I had found a friend.
I thought about those scary first days on the streets, and how grateful I was to meet Spike, and how much better things were now, what with finding regular food from these nice humans. But I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for myself; I wanted so badly to find a home of my own, like Dinsmore just had.
I didn’t sleep at all that night; instead I worked up a plan to get both me and Spike off the streets forever.
Next time: The Plan
Today's Cat Fact: Cats use their tails like cats, not like dogs. A flicking or wagging tail is almost always a sign of irritability.