Sung to the tune of Escape (The Piña Colada Song)
If you like tuna and salmon,
and stayin’ out of the rain.
If you’re not into wandering,
because you have half a brain.
If you like sleeping noon and midnight,
in a cat bed made for two,
then I’m the one that you’ve looked for,
and I’m waiting for you.
What do you think? Will that do the trick? Or maybe I should say more about myself, like how soft my grey fur is, how much I like to cuddle, and that I spend winters in my own personal Meowi. Something like, “Soft, cuddly, feline seeks same for warm, sunny days in Meowi.” Do you think that would attract the girls?
Fran left me in June. Well, not just me. She left everything and everyone. The more courageous she got with people, the more she took to exploring the farm and hunting gophers. She was a remarkable hunter for her diminutive size, capturing critters half her weight. But one night she didn’t come home, nor the next, nor all the nights since. Although she was quick and stealthy, I fear something got her, like an owl or a coyote. We have both out here on the prairie.
I was rather forlorn those first weeks, so T moved me into the house where I’d have her and Nollind and Chico for company. The plan was to turn me into a house cat and then find me a new home. Well, I didn’t like either of those things—living in a house or finding a new home.
I missed my barn. Its spaciousness and numerous hiding places. The sounds of the rain on the tin roof and wind in the Tyvek (an ongoing renovation project). The smells of hay and shavings. The scamper of tiny rodent feet.
So, I hid under the bed in the guest room. I’d venture out when they called or brought my daily treat of wet food, but stayed in hiding otherwise. It just wasn’t home, and I didn’t feel safe, despite the familiar cohabitants.
Three weeks along, T gave in and brought me back here to my barn. I stepped out of the carrier and nearly cried when I saw my beloved home! The huge loft with my favourite cozy bed on the old piece of furniture, access to the outdoors whenever I want it (although I rarely go unless people are around), rough wooden doorsills for sharpening my claws, and no televisions, stereos, appliances, or other terrifying machines.
In the weeks since, I’ve been extra clear about my choice of place to live, going out of my way to show everyone just how happy I am, even without Fran. I think they get it.
So now I need a companion. Someone to share this paradise of mine and curl up with on cold nights. Someone to enjoy my constant supply of kibble and daily treats with me. And someone to hang with on my Meowi beach where I spend most of the winter. I worry, of course, that I won’t love a new companion like I did Fran, or that she won’t love me. But I’m pretty easygoing and loveable so, really, what are the odds?
Winter’s coming, girls. Anyone want to join a handsome, country guy in Meowi?