What's Up Pussy Cat?

Trevor and I moved to California almost 4 years ago.  Time flies huh?  I've lived in 4 apartments here in 4 years.  In three of those apartments a different little kitty ended up on each doorstep....

Apartment # 1:  Teeny tiny little studio up near the foothills.  Quiet suburban neighborhood.  Lived behind the garage of a UCSB history professor, his wife, and 3 kids whose favorite hobbies included kicking the soccer ball against the wall of the studio and running around on the roof.  Considerate. Safe. 

Cat # 1:  Affectionately named "Stinky cat."  A day before moving out of the apartment, I come home to a near-empty apartment to find this little gray fluff ball curled up on the front doorstep.  The thing could barely meow, it could barely walk, it couldn't even open it's eyes.  It limped around covered in leaves and sticks, dripping puss from it's nose and eyes.  It's ears looked like they were gnawed on by something...  Mangy in all aspects..

We fed Stinky Cat some milk and roast beef and went out and got her some real cat food.  We made a little bed for her out of a cardboard box and paper towels.  She seemed ok for a couple days....  Until one morning we peaked in the box and Stinky Cat seemed more still than usual.  The flies landing on her eyes weren't bothering her at all.  And what is that mystery liquid all around her?   We brought her to the shelter asap.  This particular shelter vows not to put animals down at all costs.  The lady running the shelter was really stressed out by the shape of poor ol' Stinky Cat so we all scrambled next door to the animal hospital... The vet doctor took one look in the box and mumbled, "That thing needs to be euthanized pronto..."  We knew we couldn't keep Stinky Cat because  A) of my severe allergy to cats and B) we could not afford the medical bill.  So we signed over custody to the crazy cat shelter lady and walked away never knowing the fate of the Stinky Cat.




Apartment #2: 4 bedroom place shared with other grad students on the Westside.  Sound gangster-ish?  It was.  In fact the apartment building was right across the street from the Boys and Girls club which sounds like a great place to be.  At night, however, the playground turns into the setting of gang meetings and associated riff-raff...  One night as I lie awake in bed looking at the vaulted ceiling I see the shadow of a cat....


Cat # 2: Never named this cat.  He was a big fat cat and could easily take care of himself.  But since we still had cat food left over from Stinky Cat, we went down and gave him a late night snack.  It was winter time so we watched him from the living room window. 

We quickly realized...he was not alone.  I believe my exact words were..."holy sh*t there's a weasel in the corner!!"  Upon closer inspection we realized that this new intruder was not a weasel but in fact a baby possum. 

We pondered that the big fat cat must have been chasing the little possum for a potential meal and the possum must have ran up on our porch and hid under the bag of charcoal and that the cat chases him in and lost him on the porch.  Why else would both animals be here?  We kept feeding the cat more and more food to make sure he was stuffed and not hungry enough to eat the baby possum.  The possum became more bold or maybe bored and as the cat ate and continued to lounge the little possum starting scurrying around.  We excitedly cheered for the baby to make it's escape and avoid the jaws of death.  It scurried a bit.  The cat didn't notice.  Go possum go!  He scurried some more... The cat sees him.  Uh oh!  Wait.. what..phew.  The cat is not interested.  He just looks away... The possum in his new wave of bravery or desperation scurried right up to the cat and started eating his food!!!!  The cat just watched!!  At one point they started sniffing eachother and I swear they touched noses.  The cat eventually wandered off.  Never to be seen again.  We follow the baby possum around a bit more and watch it find and proceed to wrip apart and devour a slug. 

 Satisfied, we headed back to bed.


Apartment #3:  Roommate had a weiner dog.  Hence, no cats.  However I did find this mange-er on the car one morning:

Apartment #4:  Current abode.  Quiet little neighborhood.  Small apartment about the size of a two-car garage.  Brand new tile floors, fresh paint, never-before-used cabinets, appliances, and fixtures.  Washer / Dryer, dishwasher, small yard, huge lemon tree, full bath tub... 400 square feet of heaven.  Enough space to live without over-accumulating. 

Cat #4: Butterscrotch.   Trevor was talking about pudding the other day and instead of calling it Butterscotch he called it Butterscrotch.  We had a good laugh and brought it up multiple times since.  So  this butterscotch-colored cat came along at just the right time...A few weeks ago we returned home after a seafood dinner.  I had ordered the white sea bass but wasn't able to finish my plate....doggy-bag or in this case, kitty-bag.  We pull up to the house and step out of the car and hear a loud meow and see this skinny little tabby cat scamper over.  Trevor prodded me to give it my $25 fish dinner, and after a slight hesitation and some more encouragement from the cat-lover, I did.  Sure enough Butterscrotch is back at the gate the following night, and every night after for the past couple weeks.  We started buying him cat food and now he likes the good stuff, from the can.   It's pretty fun having an outdoor stray cat come running out to greet you every time you open the apartment door or step out of the car.  I do sort of get the feeling I'm being stalked and I did have a nightmare that Butterscrotch attacked me the other night., but I'll just put that paranoia out of my mind.  He is a sweet cat.  He is still pretty skinny, but we're trying to bulk him up.  Trevor just came home with some dental hygiene cat food.  He'll have the shiniest teeth in the stray cat community!