The cat bamboozler

Tricks for staying warm in winter

I was conned by a cat a few days ago. Bamboozled — that’s a gentler word. The cat bamboozled me

I’ve known this cat for years now without really knowing her — I didn’t know she was a she for instance or that her name was Evie. But we’ve had a rapport, Evie and I — she’d see me walking towards Safeway & she’d appear, rubbing herself along the low stone walls that border the neighborhood’s gardens until I bent down to pet her. She likes chin scratches and also will do the butt elevator if you scratch the base of her tail.

She’s a solid cat — not flabby but hard-packed and round, and she walks with an energetic bounce. Her right ear is clipped, which means that she’s officially an outdoors cat but one who has been spayed and probably has someone with an eye out for her.

I like this cat very much and I have never worried about her — she has always seemed imminently capable of handling her own affairs. At times you could almost sense the iPhone she owned or would own if she were human, probably with a Bluetooth earpiece into which she might talk relentlessly as she set up meetings and jogged at sunrise.

But Tuesday was different. Tuesday was already very very cold, and it was going to go down to 18 degrees Fahrenheit overnight. Evie came towards me as soon as she saw me on the sidewalk and would not let me go. I petted her for five, ten, fifteen minutes. Dog walkers passed me and assured me that the cat was fine. “That’s Evie,” they told me. “She’s well taken care of. I see open cans of tuna out here sometimes.”

A neighbor rescued a package from her front stoop and the slam of her door startled  Evie. She ran up the stairs, stopping at the front door & looking back at me, just as an indoors cat might if it had gotten locked out of its home.

It’s not my usual practice to go knocking on strangers’ doors in Capitol Hill. What right do I have to get involved with other people’s lives and pets?

But Evie kept looking at the door and looking at me, for all the world as if to say, this neighbor wants to take me in out of the cold, she just didn’t see me. What a cruel human you would have to be not to knock and let them know that I, a small adorable fuzzball, am out here, just waiting to be let in. 

I knocked. The neighbor came to the door, looking frazzled. She blocked Evie from getting in with one foot and somehow, at the same time, was using her other foot to try to block her own marmalade cat from getting out. She fed Evie sometimes, she said, and her neighbor did all the time, but she did not ever let Evie into the house. No matter what meaningful glances Evie might throw in my direction.

I thanked her, and realized something had to be done & it had to be done by me.

I walked to Safeway, got a litter box, some litter, and some dry food, and walked back to my apartment. I set those items up and went back to fetch Evie, wondering how in the world I would carry her.

But when I returned, Evie was nowhere to be found. And upon looking more closely, I realized that yet a third neighbor had built Evie her very own cat condo on their porch.

Evie would be fine. She had her own little house and, given the life she lived, probably would not appreciate being cooped up in my apartment, even for a night. 

She did appreciate pets though. So I went back Wednesday and Thursday afternoon and gave her some. Friday afternoon I came around but she preferred to stay warm inside her condo.

I like Evie very much, but just as much as I like Evie, I like a neighborhood that can be seduced & bamboozled by a cat.

Do you have a neighborhood cat or other pet? If so, I hope they’re staying warm — I’d love to hear about them in the comments.