BUDDY COLAW, Chapter 2

To preface this continuing saga, the last time an indoor cat lived at my house was about 1990, 29 long years ago.  Tigger was a black cat we’d had for 13 years.  Since that time, we have had a few cats that preferred to be outdoor cats, as I also preferred.

Buddy Colaw was Donald’s companion.  Buddy came to live with Donald as an 8 pound piece of fluff who wormed his way into Donald’s heart by being indifferent, condescending, even-tempered and obsequious at night.  He was a great housemate for an old bachelor.  Both were pretty unconcerned with a reasonably strict home maintenance plan.  Both thought nothing of counter and table surfing, which I think on, obsessively!

Donald put the food out, it was Buddy’s obligation to eat…or not. Same applied to the litter box. If Donald’s coffee cup wasn’t washed every day, well Buddy needn’t think his food dish would be any different.

As Donald’s health declined, Buddy thinned down a bit.  I expected to remedy that and the surfing, and any other necessary changes when Buddy came to live in Georgia.

Buddy lulled me into an easy transition by riding for 14 hours as if traveling had been his life dream.  He furthered the integration process by trolling our house as if he had lived here always.  He acted oblivious to Mattie, our 16 year old Beagle/Basset who was NOT oblivious to the intrusion.  I was smitten too and gushing as only a 70 year old idiot on meth [actually methotrexate, which isn’t as fun to write as “meth”] can be.

Reality has set in. It has rolled boulder-sized into our midst. It is the pint-sized elephant in the room.  B  U  D  D  Y   C  O  L  A  W  is here and planning to call the shots!

Table surfing is a night time sport. Who knew?  I thought sleeping, other than laundry,  was a night time sport.  We are working on this one. My last resort will be decorating the table with tape, sticky side up, to discourage any attempts. I really have no idea what Buddy likes to do, when the house is empty. Maybe I don’t want to know.

Buddy is a male groomer of monstrous proportions.   I didn’t figure him for the fastidious character he portrays.  Cat grooming equals hairballs – ugh.  I mean if I didn’t mention nose hair and eyebrows to John,  he would have a faux mustache and not be able to see to drive – DOUBLE UGH – I thought ALL males were like that, regardless of the species.  I was WRONG, WRONG, WRONG. [My sincere apologies to the late Richard Cole.]

My priority was going to be getting Buddy to eat more and put a few pounds on his little frame, maybe 3-4.  Turns out, my first priority, after watching him closely for a few days, is just getting him to eat at all.  He is a gravy guy.  He just licks the gravy off his food.  He has a fussy tummy, so changing food is totally out of the question. It’s been tried and puking EVERYWHERE is NOT my idea of …..well, anything.   He had been to the vet in Bloomington, Illinois and been sold some special dry food for gastro problems. I think the “special” was actually the price!

Since he didn’t eat the vet food and I now know that gravy is his thing, I turn to the real experts – THE INTERNET.  Turns out he just belongs to a sub-species of cat;  Gravy Lickers Anonymous.  There’s a whole tribe of them. I’m not letting a cat out of the food chain that easily.  I pull out my trusty [truthfully, I went and bought it] Bullet blender and puree two little containers of his food with some water added – I mean I get gravy on the first try – here we go Buddy!  Overnight he is cleaning up some real food.  Promising, promising!

Speaking of cleaning up……..litter box liners are a Godsend, litter mat rugs are a Godsend and a spare towel at the bathroom doorway to catch the last remnants of litter, on the way out, is also a Godsend.  Turns out that moving, resettling, gravy, dog,  water,  air is all unnerving to that ‘gastro’  issue and I have ‘issue’ just about everywhere. He always uses the box, but seems to forge a trail.  Today was C L E A N I N G  D A Y.  More cleaning than I really wanted, but clean it is.  I’m talking far cleaner than Buddy and his old Bachelor ever thought of…..or in fact, would ever notice.  John will come home today and ask what I did today.  He won’t notice that the floors have been vac’ed n mopped, the rugs vac’ed and shampoo’ed or washered if they were small enough. I tried my Bissell for the first time today – it’s work, but successful.  Big rugs got cleaned and rotated. Under the beds, in the closets, behind the doors – it was a cleaning frenzy that was cat inspired.

I, personally, have that ‘cat smell’ phobia, where you enter someone’s home and smell the cat or cats before you even see the homeowners.  I bought two waxy air fresheners when I bought the Bullet. One is in the bathroom and one in the kitchen.  I will be surveying guests at the door for quite some time:  DO YOU SMELL  ANYTHING  SPECIFIC  AS  YOU  ENTER?   The answer better be honeysuckle, lilac or guava peach. Can’t wait to hear the “guava peach”! Bawhahahaha!!!!

I am praying that the Bullet and the liners will be the answer to a ‘fat cat’ one of these days – a really HAPPY FAT CAT!!



One thought on “BUDDY COLAW, Chapter 2

  1. Deb, I am glad to know I am not the only one with cat smell phobia. I have never been one for indoor animals, I expect it comes from being raised on a farm. So imagine my surprise when my son came to live with me and brought a cat he inherited from a broken romance. Double that surprise on one of my trips back to Texas after Harvey to find yet another cat living in my house. Battle it constantly and I do believe the male species is nose blind.


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