Last night, for the first time since Little Girl died, I opened up the pet door that leads from the outdoors into the garage.
I know where all of the cats I see in the neighborhood live. The big white cat lives three doors up. The cow kitties live one street over. The old tuxedo cat lives five houses up and across.
But there's one cat, a big ol' long-haired gray cat, who started hanging around a few months before Little Girl died. Sometimes I'd see him in the garage in the morning, and a couple of times I found him in the house at night. (There's a pet door that leads from the garage into the house.) Little Girl didn't seem to mind him, though, so I just started putting her food up at bedtime so that gray cat didn't think he could get free meals at my place. I was pretty sure he belonged to someone, because he'd only come around once in a while, and he looked healthy and of good weight. A little tubby, actually. And after Little Girl died, I shut the pet doors. No more gray cat.
But last night, well, it was supposed to get down into the single digits. And I wasn't absolutely certain that gray cat had a home. And I kept thinking about Mouse and Romeo, my fosters, who, if it wasn't for a network of volunteers, would have been huddled out in the cold last night.
And I opened up the pet door from the outdoors into the garage. I KNOW. I know that I might come to regret this in the spring, when I've suddenly got fifteen freaking ferals out in the garage. But I figure as long as I'm not feeding gray cat, just giving him a space to get out of the elements, it's okay. Right? Is it okay? Yeah, you can see I'm a leetle conflicted on this one.
Did gray cat come in the garage last night? I don't think so. Which actually makes me feel good, because that means he has someplace else to go. Will I leave that pet door open for the rest of the winter? Possibly. Because evidently, I'm a big fat f*cking pushover.
And Oh! Oh! I have GOT to ask! Did anybody watch The Biggest Loser last night? That kid named, I shit you not, "Chism"? Am I the only one who thinks that's an awful name for a kid? Can you IMAGINE what he got called on the playground? Is there some big movie star of whom I am unaware who is named "Chism", thus making the name okay? Because I'm thinking that naming your kid "Chism" is NOT VERY NICE. Sheesh.
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4 comments:
"Chism" is a last name. There's some speculation that the Chisholm Trail was named after a John Chism. Many western ranches are named "Chism Trail" or "Chism Ranch", and so on.
The kid's real first name is Isaac. Chism seems to be a nickname. My defense to any kids who teased me would be "My, how very Bevis and Butthead of you."
I know a guy named Randy Chisolm. He expressed indignation that AOL wouldn't allow him to use his name as his email id. I pointed out to him that it sounded like a porn star handle.
I really dislike Butthead reactions....
Sucker, meet Sucker. There has been a very handsome tabby with a snowy white bib on his chest visiting my door. I put out leftover food from my guys. It's a regular thing now. I had hoped he was a stray but the fact that he was out last night in 10F weather proved to me that he isn't.
If you elect to call yourself Chism, you've gotta expect to take some shit.
And Becs, would that be Chester?
Yes. That would be Chester. Sigh.
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