Cats have been a part of my life on and off for many years. As a kid growing up on a farm the barnyard was full of cats. We all agreed they helped control the mice and having baby kittens growing up around the milking parlor was always entertaining.
Kittens were always free spirits, chasing and tackling each other. They would roll around in the fresh oats straw bedding using their back legs to playfully tear their opponent apart as they grasped the other struggling kitten with their front paws.
I remember one disastrous summer when the cat disease distemper swept through the barnyard’s cat population wiping out almost all of the cats. The effects lasted for several years and the cat population was never the same again.
Our three children insisted on caring for cats too as they grew up on our acreage west of Wheaton. Since I had grown up with cats as barnyard cats there was no way I would allow them to become house cats. So our family cats took up residence in the family garage. They helped control mice you know. I might have mentioned that before. 🙂
That’s when I became familiar with cat litter. Up to that point my need to deal with a ‘ bathroom going’ cat was zero. On the farm the cats were free to dig their own bathroom hole, do their job and then meticulously cover their deposit up. I will admit I and my siblings would take a break from play to watch this process from time to time. It was one of those many things that farm life served to educate us about.
Our children’s cats had a problem when winter arrived and they spent most of the time in the garage. You know the old saying “When you gotta go, you gotta go!” So who do you suppose got the job figuring out how to centralize the bathroom deposits? That of course would be their Dad and that’s how I got introduced to cat litter.
I was not very faithful about cleaning out the cat litter pan so before you knew it the litter box was a grotesque pile of frozen dung coated in cat litter. The piles took many shapes and an art lover might have even seen some artistic value in the final results.
A frozen cat litter box meant the cats had to find other places to do their thing which they gladly did; behind a sheet of plywood, under the work bench, behind a snow shovel leaning up against the garage wall.
During the winter these deposits often went unnoticed but as warm weather and spring arrived the garage took on a distinct odor to say the least. It got so bad that I vowed to never allow a creature of feline descent to ever grace the interior of our garage again!
Many years have gone by and the garage has finally returned to its normal garage odor. Then I caught a glimpse of Fuzz Ball.
It was quite late this fall when this gray, long-haired cat trotted across our patio. I assumed it was a cat from the neighbors out on a hunting trip. Although its matted, unkempt. cockle-burr infested coat should have alerted me to the fact that it was indeed homeless.
It took up residence under the shed behind our house and from time to time it seemed to enjoy seeking shelter in our woodpile. As the weather got cooler I assumed Fuzz Ball, as I began to call him, would move on to greener(warmer) pastures.
But Fuzz Ball didn’t and it soon became evident he was living off the land and the land wasn’t providing much nourishment. Even from a distance it was evident that he was becoming skinnier and skinnier.
Finally I went to town and purchased a cheap bag of cat food. Each evening I would put some of the cat food in a dish by the garage. In the morning the cat food was gone. But I could never be sure Fuzz Ball was eating it. Since the weather was still fairly mild the food could be being devoured by raccoons or skunks. Yes, I did say skunks! Yikes.
Later in the fall the temperature dropped and ice formed over the creek’s watery surface. The raccoons and skunks would be hibernating and the food kept disappearing each night. Now I was fairly certain Fuzz Ball was the one emptying the food dish.
Unless coyotes were the culprits and if that was the case Fuzz Ball would not be long for this world because coyotes love cats for dessert.
I think Fuzz Ball was born in the wild and had had no experience with humans as he was terrified whenever he saw me. I would call to him kindly and he would scamper away in terror.
Slowly Fuzz Ball began to recognize I was the one putting food in his dish. I felt so sorry for him one of the first times I witnessed him eating after I had filled his dish. He gobbled the food down so fast I was afraid he would choke on it. Inhaling the food might be a more accurate description.
He became more trusting when I began to bring out a dish of water each morning. We had not received any snow yet so Fuzz Ball had no source of water and was he ever thirsty.
As he lapped the water up I was able to slowly walk up to him before he would scamper away. After a few days I was able to walk up to him and quickly stroke his back.
Fuzz Ball began to rub up against the garage wall and eventually he actually rubbed up against my leg. When I briefly stroked his back he would arch it like he was enjoying the experience.
But if I held my hand down in front of him he would swipe at me with claws that drew blood very quickly. My right hand has a variety of healing scars as I type this.
The domestication process continues. I am able to pet him with both hands on his arched back but his lightning fast claws are always on the ready so I am working on improving my reflex reactions each morning.
This morning I was a little slow so to the medicine cabinet I went for some antiseptic after the cat chores were done.
Fuzz Ball has allowed the winter to pass by more enjoyably for me. Will I ever tame Fuzz Ball to the point where he will hop up on my lap, curl up and purr? I’m not sure. Time will tell but it’s a goal I’m shooting for.
And of course there’s that really big decision to be made as next winter approaches. What if Fuzz Ball hangs around all summer and fall and as winter arrives decides he wants to spend the winter in our garage? What will I do.
I remember the last frozen litter boxes all too well and I promised myself it would never happen again. But remember we’re talking about Fuzz Ball now.
I got an idea! You know those plastic swimming pools you can buy at almost any hardware store? I’ll get one of those and put it in our garage. I think I can talk Kathie into letting me move the snow blower into the kitchen for the winter. That will make it easier to start on those below zero blizzardy days.
Then I’ll fill the plastic swimming pool with kitty litter and Fuzz Ball will have a bathroom that he will never fill up! What a great idea! 😉 I bet that will even cure Fuzz Ball from scratching my already scarred hands.
Until next time. 🙂
