OUR SIAMESE TIGER, CHLOE



WE THOUGHT SHE WAS A GONER, BUT THE CAT CAME BACK:

Honestly... this has happened probably 6 times in our 12 year old Siamese tiger's life.  For no reason at all that we can see, Chloe leaves for several days.  We think, "This is it," but, "Oh well…” as we expected her to succumb to the wild dangers sooner or later. We sadly give up on ever seeing her again, and then at 3:30 a.m. she awakes Tom with her thin mews which sometimes only he hears, which was the case this morning.  So he awakes me telling me my cat is hungry… his way of telling me “Choe’s home!” I was happy to go out and feed her, as I had been having bad dreams about what I thought had happened to her, and I cooed over her being back, and admonished her for having been away for so long.  She chewed on some kibbles, didn't touch her canned cat food, and lapped up the attention rather than food, which makes me wonder where she‘s been and what she‘s been eating, though she‘s a skinny cat, and seems skinnier than usual.  I go back to bed, and soon she's in bed with us, and Tom, the used to be cat hater, is making a fuss over her. (He even worries over her more than I do).

She's so spoiled.  She's so independent.  She's finicky and unpredictable.  ...Is afraid of my hyper cocker spaniel, Bear, one day, and stroking herself against him the next.  Doesn't even regard my basset-beagle, Polly, one way or another.  Polly seems benign to all the birds and animals around here. Except for the poor chipmunks that she's constantly chasing.

Chloe meowed and seemed to want to go back out about an hour after she was in awakening me again... and I was having trouble sleeping last night as it was with my worry over her possibly having been killed. And now she wouldn’t let me sleep; but when I got up thinking she was going out on the prowl again, she instead tried stroking herself on the brushes I've put on one of the rails of the backs of the stools at the kitchen island.  Stupid cat just wanted me to start brushing her on one side while she strokes herself on the other... at 4 in the morning. 

I straightened out the stools so she could brush herself, and stomped off to bed yet again to try to get a few more hours of sleep.  Soon she was in the bedroom acting restless.  I gathered her up and placed her in the middle drawer of the nightstand where I've put a fluffy sweater for her own personal bed.  She settled down after pumping the sweater to the right softness the way a cat does, and curled up, sleeping soundly, and was still there at 8:50 a.m. when I finally got up, Tom having let me sleep in.  She came out for food shortly after, and still wouldn't eat her canned food, so Tom insisted I get her some of the dogs' chicken. [He boils up chicken when Giant has it on sale, picks it from the bones, putting the meat in Cool Whip containers and freezes it.]  The cat, who usually prefers Friskies’ canned fish flavors, likes a break in food once in awhile, and ate the treat with great relish.

I took my breakfast out on the back deck, so Bear wouldn't in any way scare her after she ate, and soon zipped by us, cutting through the deck's rails and running up behind the pond and off to areas unknown... to dodge the coyotes and other dangers of which this rural savvy cat knows only too well. 

I guess she'll probably be back tonight... or next week... who knows.  I guess it's better to have an independent cat who loves the outdoors, rather than to have one that demands a lot of attention, like Bear does.  I admire independence, and hate to see things penned up, so I guess a little of my spirit goes out with Chloe's treks in the wild.  Maybe I've been a cat in another life.

So… We thought she was a goner but the cat came back.

Cranberry Jo