The "Oh, The Tales He Could Tell" Story

It was an ordinary day. Watching TV in the family room. I was sitting on the double-recliner sofa while Carol was sitting on the single recliner chair with a guest on her lap. About three years ago, during the cold, cold winter, we spotted an animal amongst the huge piles of snow on our back deck. After watching it for a short time we realized it was an orange and white colored cat. Parts of its fur were covered with snow. I said to Carol, "My gosh, it looks like an orange creamsicle." For those of you who know me, you know that is my all-time favorite Popsicle. We went to the back door, knocked gently on the window to get the cats attention, but we scared it. It was a full grown cat that more than likely was from the neighborhood or was dropped off in the neighborhood by someone not knowing what to do with it anymore. So sad that people actually do that, but they do. That evening Carol put a small bowl of dry cat food under cover on our deck. The next morning the food was gone. We put food out for the next couple of days, but never saw the cat again. The food was always missing in the morning though. A week or two later we had a near record snowfall that drifted the snow against our rear door window to maybe three feet. Carol was worried about the cat, naturally. Evening came, the snow had stopped and I was getting ready to go out to shovel the back deck. I opened the rear door and in came the cat. Saw us and headed toward the other end of the house, scared as can be. Found it in the basement hiding behind some boxes. I took some food down, put it in the center of the room and came back upstairs. We snuck down the stairs and saw it gobbling down the food. After about an hour I walked down the steps to see where the cat might be and it ran right past me, up the steps and into the laundry room which is right next to the family room. "That cat belonged to someone at one time," Carol said. "Its a beautiful cat, but scared half to death." At that moment we decided that we needed a name for it. So, naturally, we called it Creamsicle. I opened the door to the laundry room and it was hiding behind the dryer. Even though the weather was so poor, we decided it was best to try to coax Creamsicle to go back out. Wasn't tough. I went back in the laundry room and it ran past me and out the rear door which Carol had opened. Disappeared into the snow drifts. We wondered all night where the cat was and if it was safe. In the following months Creamsicle made daily visits to our back door and seemed to be less afraid of us. We got a pretty good view of it and determined it was a female cat. One day I opened the rear door and put the food on the carpet right inside the door. In she came, ate the food and hustled back out. Wasn't long before she came in and felt safe walking around the family room while we sat there. Then one day Carol walked over to her and reached down and picked her up. She put the cat in her lap while sitting on a chair by the back door and the cat started purring. Soon we decided to take her to the vet for shots and a check-up as well as planning on having her spayed. Knew it wasn't our cat, but we wanted it to be protected. During the visit we heard the news that it was a male. "Are you sure," Carol asked the vet. The vet picked up the tail and checked again and said, "Yep, no doubt about it." "But it has two holes back there," we both said. And, not only that, it had already been neutered. Some vets, when they neuter a cat, will put a small notch on one of the ears so people can tell if it had been neutered. Well, its been almost three years now and Creamsicle loves to be rubbed while laying on our laps. Doesn't matter who he sits on, as long as he get rubbed. He trusts us now, but when it starts to get dark, he's by the back door, waiting to be left out. I often wonder where he goes and what he does. Oh, the tales he could write about if he were a blogger. I would definitely read his blog if he had one. It was another extraordinary day in the like of an ordinary guy.