Once A Year He Puts Me Through Hell

I like to think that I have a close working relationship with my cat. Basically he has a routine that I slavishly tend too. I let him out and in on his verbal command. I insure room temperature water (in the living room on the marble coffee tables no less. The drinking bowl is Swarovski Crystal.) I keep both the dry and the wet cat food fresh.

I move in my sleep because he won't lie parallel to me - he has to stretch perpendicular. What happen to the pet at the FOOT of his masters bed, not crowding the pillows near my head.

He will cry in my face or my ears when he wants some attention, usually to be let outside. Then back inside. Then some excuse to go back outside like he left his wallet at the 7-11. I always fall for that one.

In the winter he lives indoors 99% of the time. In the warmer seasons, however, he has always gone out at night. After 14 years I hardly notice it anymore because he follows a routine. When he wants to come in he cries at my window and I go let him in. He eats, he sleeps, he prowls, he gets sweet brushing and smudges from me - no animal ever had it so good except maybe for myself.

Once a year, however, he decides to be away for 48 hours or more. I swear he must a a girl on the inside who just got out of jail and can only see him for 2 days before she has to take a bus back to Manitoba (and before some of you get snotty with you invasive questions - YES, cats can take the bus in Canada. It's their constitutional right!). He always comes home looking rough. Today was no exception,.

This time my feline Pepe Le Pew was gone 38 hours past his curfew. He is home and safe and tired now. I hope he sleeps till next Tuesday. I should treat him like he treats me and wake him up every hour with some meaningless activity for him to do. See how he likes it. But NO. I LOVE MY KITTY and would never exploit him and our relationship in that way. So here is the scoundrel. Home again.