I’ve always been a closet cat guy, so in 2015, when I finally had the opportunity to get a cat, I jumped on it. The opportunity, not the cat.
I had cats growing up and always found a kinship with them. They required little attention and gave little affection, which always made it so rewarding when they showed any.
When our kids were little, I got two kittens while Barb was deployed. She was pissed. She’s allergic to them. We rehomed the cats, but I vowed to one day get another.
We moved to our 32-acre property in Vanleer, TN in 2014. This was our son’s first year at The Ohio State University. He couldn’t take his car on campus until his sophomore year, so he left it with us. I parked it on the gravel driveway, and it sat until he’d come home for a visit.
That Christmas, he came home and spent a few weeks with us. When he prepared to leave, he told me he secured some off-campus parking, so he would be taking his car. That was fine by me. I didn’t feel like doing that 7-hour drive back up to Columbus.
The night before he left, I started his car and pulled it up to the carport so he could pack his stuff. I turned on the heater to warm it up. That’s when I heard a loud thumping and grinding noise coming from the fan. I shut it off and tried to figure out what was wrong. I had no answer. When I told Dustin, he agreed to leave his car since a heater was important in Columbus. I drove him back to campus the next day.
Then, I took his car into the shop. The fan motor was burned out. It cost $1,200.00 to fix. I drove the car home and parked it back on the driveway.
A few weeks later, I started it up so I could move it and heard that same thumping, grinding noise coming from the heater. I took it back to the shop. This time, the mechanic had the correct diagnosis.
“You don’t have a blower problem,” he explained. “You have a squirrel problem.”
Squirrels were building nests in Dustin’s car using nuts, leaves, and insulation from the firewall. Another $1,200.00 to fix. And now I had some decisions to make about the car.
Barb suggested parking the car in the barn. That was a non-starter for me. The barn was further up the gravel driveway, but it was packed with shit from our move. Plus, it leaked, smelled like mildew and mold, and was full of spiders and who knows what else?
My neighbor suggested a shotgun. I didn’t feel right about shooting something that was just trying to stay warm. I guess I’m not really a country boy after all.
Besides, I had a better idea. Cats are the natural enemy of squirrels. At least I think they are. I suggested getting a cat.
Strangely, Barb was open to it, but still insisted parking in the barn was the best course of action. But I had the football and was heading to the end zone. I would have my cat!
The local vet in Erin, TN posted a sign from someone who had free kittens. That was perfect. Kittens! Free!
Barb and I drove out to a farm just outside of Erin. We were met by an old lady who had a bunch of horses. Her husband was a grouchy old, retired Marine. He was friendly until we told him we were both retired Navy. He scowled and limped back into the house. His wife was much friendlier.
The old lady walked us up to her barn. There was a large female cat sitting on some hay. It was the mom. When we walked in, a bunch of grey kittens came running out to greet us. And that’s when I saw her—a tiny, light grey kitten with white paws all around. When I picked her up, I knew she was the one.
Then, more surprises. My cat-averse wife picked up a small dark grey kitten with deep blue eyes. She wanted her.
Two cats??? Say it isn’t so!! I couldn’t believe it. I scooped up the kittens and we took them home.
Allison, our daughter, named them. My kitten was named Athena. Barb’s became Iris.
I put them on our front porch and put a baby gate over the opening to the steps so they couldn’t get out. I got a cat bed, scratching post, water and food dishes, and a litter box. Then, I settled in, waiting for them to grow big enough to chase squirrels. I did have a Mazda 3 to protect.
Two weeks later, I left for a business trip to Ontario, California. It was a two-day workshop. At the end of the second day, I finished and headed to the airport. My flight home would take me to Phoenix, where I would connect to Nashville.
As I boarded my flight, Barb sent me a text:
“Something got Iris. Off to bet.”
Now Barb is a notoriously terrible texter. I read that as “off to bed.”
And that broke my heart. Iris is dead and now you’re off to bed? Like it was nothing. NOTHING!!!!
And then I got a second text:
“The cat is in your office.”
Great. Something killed Iris and you just put her little kitten body in my office?
I held back tears as I flew to Phoenix.
But when I arrived, there were more texts.
Turns out, something did attack Iris on the front porch. It bit her really bad. Barb took her to the VET, not the BET. The doctor didn’t think she’d make it, but she pulled through. The free cats now cost around $500.00. And the cat in my office? That was Athena. And she was just fine.
Iris coming home from the bet, I mean VET!
But I wasn’t taking any chances now with my cats.
I decided to rig up a fortified compound on the front porch that would protect Iris and Athena.
The cat compound
I purchased chicken wire and wood to build an enclosed pen. Then, I rigged up a motion detector light, fortified the gate, and attached a cowbell to it as a warning. And the pièce de résistance? A 20-gauge shotgun. I wasn’t fucking around anymore. It was sophisticated. The Viet Cong would have been proud of my booby-trapped cat fortress.
That night, I settled in to sleep only to be awakened an hour later by the cowbell tinkling. I jumped out of bed, grabbed the shotgun, and headed out. The motion detector light was on, so I opened the door and saw a big raccoon crawling over the gate. I shot at it and missed, and it disappeared. Iris and Athena scattered. Barb came running out, as did Allison. It was a close call.
And that night, as I sat in the rocker, shotgun in my lap, freezing my ass off, standing watch over my kittens, I realized that it probably would have been a better idea to just park the car in the fucking barn. I implemented a very expensive solution to a simple problem.
I learned a lesson that day—something you might benefit from:
If the cost of the solution to your problem is greater than the cost of the problem, DON’T DO IT!!!
But it’s a cost I’m good with. Which is a good thing, since those free cats have cost us a small fortune in the last 11 years.
Iris and Athena are doing well. Iris lost a few of her nine lives that day, I think. Her left eye is still damaged and waters non-stop. She is sweet and affectionate. To my knowledge, she’s never eaten a squirrel. She did have a run-in with a barbed wire fence a few years later that required hospitalization and surgical repair, but again, she did just fine.
Athena spent her first few years hating me. Even though I picked her out and showered her with love, she just ignored me. Until five years ago, when something attacked her. I looked everywhere for her when she didn’t turn up for breakfast. I found her in the barn, buried under some boxes and tarps. She had been attacked by something that bit her right across her spine. When I found her, she looked up at me with an expression that said, “Thank God, you found me.”
Athena in her happy place. My lap.
Two days at the vet, and I brought her home. Since then, she is in love with me. She won’t leave me alone. When I come home from business trips, she runs out to greet me when I get out of the car. I guess I am her hero. Like Iris, she has yet to eat a squirrel.
But six years ago, Barb and I were walking on the 3-mile loop we frequently do. As we passed our neighbor’s pig pen, I heard a tiny meow coming from some trees. A tiny kitten spied us, quickly hustled down out of a tree, and ran toward me. We kept walking. That kitten followed us the entire way. I think he chose us. Barb rolled her eyes as I scooped him up. When I brought him home, he immediately climbed into a small tree, laid across a branch, and went to sleep. I named him Tiger.
Tiger on the day he found us
Tiger is our hunter. To date, he’s killed and eaten mice, rats, moles, birds, snakes, frogs, lizards, and yes, squirrels. Lots of them. I usually just find the tail in the barn. Sometimes, there is a skeletal spine attached. Once, I saw him walking out of the woods with a whole squirrel in his mouth—sort of like a tiger carrying its prey. There has been no squirrel damage since.
I wanted a cat, and now I have three. I’m a happy man. Yes, those cats were a hell of a lot more expensive than just parking that car in the barn, but what I gained in time with my cats is more than worth it.
Dogs love you no matter what. Rusty and Shiloh do, and I love them for it.
You must earn a cat’s love and affection. But once you do, they will give it to you unsparingly.
Yes, I’m a cat guy.
And damn proud of it.
Iris today
Athena today
Tiger today
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