We once called him "White Kitty".
Now we call him "Murphy".
Since the great Summer power outage of 2012, Murphy has called our downstairs his home, his bachelor pad, his very own man ... er ... cat cave. Now that he lives under our roof with us, I've learned a few things about him.
(1) He's strong. When I hold Shiloh, I'm aware she weighs more than a cat should, but it's not "solid" weight - it's fluffy and soft. Holding Murphy feels like you're holding a solid muscle. He's buffed out. If he lived on the beach, he'd be working out every day.
(2) He's inquisitive like cats are, but very timid. He wants to see what is going on, but it also terrifies him. He wants to play with his "fish on a line" toy, but the noise it makes freaks him out. He wants to meet the other kitties in the house, but he doesn't know anything about cats.
(3) He's VERY nocturnal. From the time I leave for work to the time I come home, it appears that he sleeps. He also sleeps from the time I arrive at home until about 9pm. At 9pm, he's as pleasant, as cuddly, as wonderful as any cat can be. It kills me that I can't stay up with him until midnight or so just to hang out with him.
************
A weekend or so ago, the Awesome Fiance and I went to our favorite frame shop to drop off some art and then to the store for a few things. Having just recovered from the power outage, we needed to restock. Shiloh was, as usual for that time of day, sound asleep in her room. Tabby had the run of the upstairs and Murphy had the run of the downstairs. (Caring for three cats that either don't know or don't like or can't be trusted enough to be left together can be a REAL pain.)
We returned a few hours later. Knowing that Murphy could easily be waiting by the door and could maybe dart outside, I went in first. After a brief glance at the bottom and top of the stairs to see if it was "Murphy-free", I pushed open the door at the top of the stairs which leads to our kitchen. I rounded the corner and noticed a bit of Tabby-colored fur. This time of year, it's not unusual to find a tumbleweed of kitty fur, but as I looked further, I noticed another small fluffy clump ... and then a third and fourth. "Uh oh" I muttered. I glanced into the living room, expecting to see Tabby somewhere but, instead was met with a lovely pair of large, bright blue eyes.
Murphy was sitting on the chair, waiting like a character from The Godfather. He was expecting me. A glance at his coat seemed to indicate no obvious injuries. I turned back to the kitchen and was met with a lovely pair of even larger, bright green eyes.
Tabby was sitting under the table. She seemed to have an expression full of questions on her fuzzy face. "What IS that? How did it get in? What the hell IS that???" These were good questions. How DID he get upstairs? By this time, the Awesome Fiance was in the kitchen, too. He was ... un-amused. I escorted Tabby past Murphy (who was still waiting for me while he sat on his chair) and we went to our bedroom. Tabby was completely pissed off as she stomped by Murphy for a brief exchange of words, but she was, at least, uninjured. Just upset. "No seriously - what the hell WAS that thing?" she seemed to continue to ask me as I checked her out and tried to calm her down.
I went back to the living room to Murphy, who had two tiny Tabby-sized claw marks on his nose, and we went downstairs. I pushed the kitchen door to allow us downstairs and, for a brief second, thought "he opened this??? but ... no ... it's a heavy swinging door. He'd have to run fast after opening it or it'd start to close on him." We sat downstairs and, after a moment, Murphy went to a favorite spot to hide away and nap.
************
Since that event, I've envisioned (in almost cartoon fashion) what this must have been like to see: Murphy cautiously darting up the stairs after he is sure we'd left. Tabby sniffing under the door and then walking into the living room for a nap. Murphy hearing Tabby and pushing against the door, not realizing that it'd open and then, when seeing it would, butting his head against it until he flopped through. The door closing behind him - locking him in and sealing his fate. Tabby, alarmed by the commotion, re-enters the kitchen and they exchange looks. Murphy tiptoeing past Tabby, while she yells at him for breaking and entering. Shiloh waking up and demanding to know what's going on. Murphy turning his head in Shiloh's direction and then turning to Tabby, who smacks him in the face and squarely on the nose. Murphy telling Tabby to knock it off, causing Tabby to purposely fluff her fur in an effort to look larger than she is. Murphy scrambling onto the living room chair, not daring to reenter the kitchen where Tabby is still yelling and not able to hide in the hallway where he's hearing Shiloh. He sits, trapped in the chair. Tabby sits in the kitchen, trapped by Murphy's location. Shiloh, having missed the excitement, is bummed out and goes back to bed. We return home to witness the aftermath and wonder about the goings-on.
But today, some of it came true in an even funnier fashion. As I was washing his breakfast bowl out, I noticed a noise behind me. I glanced to my right and saw the kitchen door swinging closed, and then open again as it was being pushed by a strong, muscular, all-white paw.
Oh he IS a smart ninja kitty, he is.
No comments:
Post a Comment