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Monday, February 8, 2016

The "My Good Buddy" Story

It was an ordinary day.  Watching my buddy sitting in front of the back door, studying the mounds of snow that are foot high against the outside of the back door.  The same door that back in 2011 he was on the other side of during a very nasty snow storm.  After that storm I opened the back door to go out and shovel and in flies this big orange and white stray cat over the mounds of snow that had then gathered against the door.  He continued through the house and down the basement.  
Creamsicle in a quiet moment by the fireplace.
He sat scared behind a TV cabinet as he watched me come down the stairs with a bowl of food for him.  After eating, he came back upstairs and managed to run outside once again, but that was the start of a friendship that has lasted for over five years now.   As he sits watching the snow today I wonder what he thinks.  Does he have the capacity to remember years ago when he was on the outside looking in at me.  Creamsicle, as we call him, is one of the most talkative pets we have ever had.  He is constantly talking to us about just about anything.  Meal time is a real treat around the kitchen island with him telling us what he wants and then complaining if it isn't exactly what he preferred.  Then shortly after he eats he reminds us it is time for his heart pill which he eats with a spoonful of baby food.  He sits by the back door and tells us he needs to go out and check the back deck for marauding thieves.  At bed time he sits next to our recliners reminding us that it is time for bed and naturally his night-time treat.  But, with all this conversation comes the companionship that both he, Carol and I relish.  
Creamsicle keeping a lookout for intruders.
Being empty-nesters for years now, and with a series of other pets that made not a sound, he is a welcome addition to the household.  At times it does get rather annoying, but he seems to sense those moments and walks away until we have a chance to regroup.  The other day I did yell at him for being to vocal, but after seeing some blood in his stool in the kitty litter pan, I felt terrible for yelling at him.  The blood has subsided and we believe it was from the bird he caught and devoured after offering to us for breakfast a day or two ago.  For those of you who have pets, you know how attached you can get to them, especially one who likes to talk with you.  It's almost like having a child and listening to them as they learn to speak.  Only problem with Creamsicle, I know he will never be able to speak my language.  At least I don't think he will!  For now I will have to imagine what he is telling me as he looks over all the snow on the other side of the door.  I'm sure he likes this side better.  It was another extraordinary day in the life of an ordinary guy.   

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