Recently, I was talking to my best friend who was telling me that her parents were getting another cat. I was telling her how having two cats was enough for me, and I would like the next cat I get to be an orange tabby cat.Well, wouldn't you know it, about a week later a big orange cat shows up on the back porch. Meowing, eating Charlie's food. You open the door, and it doesn't run away, it comes straight up to you, charging you with his head down for you to rub her behind the ears. It attempts to come into the house. Sadly and predictably, we start feeding her, and she stays even longer. She started coming around 4:00. Then she would hang around and meow at the back door. The noise stops and we think she's gone, but when we look outside, she pops out of nowhere like a stalker. Then, we go back to watching TV, and just out of curiosity check the back porch at 11:00, and she's still there. In the morning, we wake up, and she's still there, sleeping on one of Charlie's pillows.
We think this is just temporary, but then she starts showing up meowing in the mornings, too. She sleeps on our front porch. She goes around to the back porch. She rubs up against the front door to mark it but she's kinda big so it sounds like someone's trying to break through our door. I leave the house to go next door and she follows me. She follows Jared. Jared says, "Why is orange cat following us?" We open the door and think she's not around, but then we suddenly see a bolt of orange fur running toward our door.This has been going on for three weeks now, and one afternoon Jared and I even posted signs around the neighborhood saying we found a cat, but no one called to claim her. The cat may have been an indoor cat because every time we open the door, she's right there and trying to get in the house. We open and shut the door quickly, to get out of the house, to get in the house, to get the mail. It's like we're trying to prevent snow or a swarm of mosquitoes from entering the house. Now, when we need to get something outside, we prepare ourselves, and at the front door, I'll say, "Ready, Jared?" Then he'll squat down, get his little index finger out, and when I open the door to the minimal amount of space I can squeeze through, he'll lean forward, wag his finger, and say, "No, no, no, orange cat. You can't come in!" I'll grab the mail, while saying, "Back, back", squeeze through the small space again, and close the door. I'm not exaggerating. One time we were careless and orange cat ran into our kitchen then back out of the house.
While it sounds like I may be complaining, I am actually happy to have an outdoor cat. I admit - I feed her twice a day, brush her once a week, and will go outside to pet her and rub her tummy. When she's roaming the neighborhood during the day and I haven't seen her for a little while, I'll ask Paul, "Have you seen orange cat?"
For a while, we called her Annie, but this week while brushing her I noticed parts to make her a him. So, we were either going to call him Linus or Schroeder, but he looks more like a Schroeder. He continues to stalk us throughout the day, begging to get into the house. You look out the window, and he's jumped into the flower box to get a better look. You go to the back door, and he's sitting right there.Paul asks if we're seriously going to "keep" Schroeder. Like he's giving us a choice?
