Boris runs away and returns...

Whew! That was a long vacation!

Sorry about the long delay in my blog my faithful readers, all three of you. I've been absolutely swamped at work.

Here's a story about our cat, Boris, running away...


Boris runs away...

I've written about our newest cat, Boris, the one that's really lazy, that belches, that has chin acne, that isn't that bright, that is a bed hog and so on. Actually, I only wrote that he's quite lazy, but add the other stuff to that.

Boris lived on the streets for months before being picked up by the Humane Society. When we got him, he'd shown some interest in going outside, but we didn't want to start that habit. Our old cat, Moe, used to go outside on a leash in the front yard, so we tried that with Boris. He enjoyed it so much that he'd throw a hissy fit if he didn't get to go outside.

At first, he'd walk around and occasionally get wrapped around our tree in the middle of the front yard. Then he started to get more and more adventurous that he started chasing bugs, which usually congregated by the rose bushes right next to the house. I would come outside and find him wrapped in figure eights in the shrubbery. I'd have to unclip him and untangle the rope once or twice a day. It started to get old.

One day, I came out to get him and I found the rope frayed with no collar or Boris attached.

Panicked, I ran around the corner of the house and found him halfway to the back yard. I grabbed him and threw him inside while I tried to fix the rope. It was at least 10 years old and very weather frayed. I got it tied, but knew I had to replace it with a chain, which I did when I got a dog chain at the pet store. It's the kind that's steel encased in plastic with metal clips on each end.

I was pretty satisfied with this setup for a while because it didn't snag on the shrubbery like the rope did.

I should say that I WAS satisfied with this setup until the other night when I walked out to retrievehim. I followed the rope in the shrubbery to the end clip and found no Boris. He must have tugged on the end and it had enough give that he was able to pull himself off the clip.

I ran to the backyard and found no trace of him. I ran around our house a couple of times. No Boris. I got a flashlight and walked around calling his name. No dice. I got in my car and slowly drove up each street looking for flashes of him, but he was gone.

I broke the news to Laura that her replacement cat for Moe was missing and she took it pretty bad. She had just gotten over Moe and now this new cat disappears. In the morning, Julia broke down crying because she was so worried. I stayed home and put out fliers and drove around the neighborhood a few more times, but still found no sign of him.

I tried to cheer Laura and Julia up by telling them that I had a cat that had ran away when I was in college. In the same scenario, she had gotten outside and didn't came back. I walked around for a couple days all depressed because I didn't think she was coming back, but then late on the second night of her being gone, she showed up all dirty and hungry. I still had a little hope that he was going to return like my old cat had, but it was obvious that Laura had given up hope. I think the fact that she said, "I don't think he's coming back," several times led me to this point.

That second night here came and Laura got more depressed. She had just gone to bed when the doorbell ran.

There on the front porch was our neighbor and he had a struggling Boris in his arms. Apparently, he had found Boris walking around their back yard.

So all's well that ends well, right? Well, there is a small funny footnote to this.

The next night, Julia and I went out to eat while Laura was away at a bachelorette party. My phone rang. I checked the number. It said 'Private."

I answered it.

"Did you put up signs that you lost your cat?" the called asked, referring to my Lost Cat signs that I had taped up all over our subdivision.

"Yes, I did. But he came back last night. I need to take those signs down. Sorry about that."

The caller continued, "Is there a reward?"

"Ummm... No. He came back last night."

The caller hung up. I shrugged and hung up.

I started to wonder what that was all about. Who calls up someone before they found their lost pet asking if they are looking for that pet?

Maybe I was going to come home and find that he had been stolen. In his place would be a random note asking for his reward.

Maybe he's a wanted cat and a bounty hunter was distracting me while he broke in and took Boris.

He was still there, but it still strikes me as weird. Finding a cat and calling someone if it's theirs I can understand, but to call before finding said cat?

The kid sounded like a teenager, so I started to picture a kid like Encyclopedia Brown, a young amateur detective profiled in a book series of the same name. The kid must have been walking around the neighborhood with his trusty side kicks. They see my sign and jot down my number. This probably sounds like the perfect case for them. They probably called it "The Case of the Missing Cat." He calls me up and I hire him to find my cat. He does some searching around, but ends up finding nothing. Then a break in the case! He realizes that there is a secret cat stealing operation with the criminals sending the cats overseas for some secret laboratory experiments. He'll get caught while trying to save Boris, but get away through his ingenious McGuyver-cunning in which he cuts through his binds by using his glasses as a magnifying glass to harness the sun's power to cut through the ropes. He'll get the cops to come, the day will be solved and I'll get my cat back. But because I had already found him, he won't have that chance. Shame...

Our new cat Boris is quite lazy...

A while ago, I wrote about our cat, Moe, who passed away. Moe was Laura's baby, so she was understandably devastated when he died.

We had three cats at that point, two of whom favored me a lot more than they favored Laura. Until a little over a year ago, we had just two cats, Moe and Murphy, who were the same age. Then Laura and Julia wanted a new kitten. I was against it because I didn't think it was necessary. If fact, when Laura and Julia went to pick up the kitten at the Humane Society, the HS people called me to get my permission. I felt very tempted to say that I didn't want a cat, but I relented.

Laura and Julia picked out a female they named, Suzie. Now it's been a good track record that female cats tend to gravitate themselves to me. I told Laura that she should get a male cat because I didn't want her jealous when a female kitten started to favor me. She felt that was ridiculous, so in the end, they got a female kitten.

I had requested that Laura and Julia would be responsible for the kitten so I wouldn't corrupt it. This worked for a few days, but then they got tired of always tending to the kitten, so I got brought into the mix despite my warnings. Sure enough, after a few months, Suzie started to gravitate towards me. Straight out of a cliche'd movie, Laura would be in one chair tapping her leg while exclaiming, "Suzie!". I waited and tapped my lap while also exclaiming Suzie's name. Sure enough, Suzie took off for me. Before long, Suzie was completely corrupted by me and followed me around wherever I went.

So when Moe died, Laura was sad for a bit, but then she was really pissed off because then she had no cats that favored her. It was only heightened when we'd be watching TV in the living room and Suzie would stroll into the room. She bypassed Laura's pleas and jumped into my lap.

Laura seethed, "It's not fair! At least you have two cats that still love you!"

So it was decided that we would get another cat. After several weeks, we went to the Humane Society to pick out our cat. We had been there a few times prior scouting out some cats. Laura had even had a private room session with one of the cats a week prior, an orange tabby they named, Cheddar, but she wasn't sure if he was right. She didn't have her heart set on Cheddar, but she just wanted a cat that liked to cuddle.

We picked one orange tabby cat to look at, but when he was brought into the room, he spent the entire time just wandering and paying no attention to us at all. After a few minutes, I said, "Well, I don't think he's very interested in us."

Laura agreed and they brought in Cheddar. We didn't pick him first because he was a rather scrawny cat. He was eight-months old and had a skinny body and skinny legs.

The Humane Society worker pulled Cheddar out of his cage and he immediately bounded for our private room. Once inside, he jumped up on the bench we were sitting on, put his head on Laura's leg and started purring loudly. She pet him and he responded with even more purring. Over the next 10 minutes, it was obvious that Cheddar was the cat we were taking home. He seemed to love all of us. Laura had a name picked for him: Boris, after Boris Yeltzen (don't ask).

We packed Boris into the cardboard carrier and placed him in my car. Laura had to go back to work. Julia and I started driving home. Boris started to meow loudly. He started to claw frantically at the holes inside the box.

Julia started to yell, "Dad! He's trying to get out!"

I tried reassuring Boris, but he was bound and determined to get out of the cardboard carrier.

"Oh my gosh!" Julia exclaimed, "He's dug a hole in the box! He's going to get out!"

I reached into the backseat and felt the box. Sure enough, there was a hold in the box. I reached a finger into the box to try and stroke Boris' head, but was scratched instead by the whining cat that frantically started resuming his prison break.

I looked around the front of my car and grabbed a CD case from the console. I reached back and said, "Here. Hold this over the hole."

Julia did as instructed. She held the CD over the hole, but Boris kept clawing away at the box. Julia squealed a few times and exclaimed, "This is the weirdest day of my entire life!"

She protested that she couldn't keep Boris out any longer, so I took the CD case and held it over the hole with my right arm stretched to the back seat and my left arm still on the steering wheel. I felt like stopping to calm him down, but I figured that getting him home as fast as possible was the wisest strategy.

Once home, we shut him into our room and shut Murphy and Suzie out. After a few days, we opened the door and let Boris meet the rest of the cats. There was a lot of hissing and chasing for a while, but he quickly won over Suzie since they are around the same age and they became buddies. Murphy still hasn't befriended him. Not that Boris cares.

There are a few things about Boris that we have noticed. While Moe ruled the house like a tyranical king in which he did everything himself and attacked all threats, Boris rules like a lazy emperor.

Boris likes to eat.

He was practically skin and bones when we first brought him home, but he quickly got into a routine of eating. If he doesn't have food, he whines and cries. If he does have food, he whines and cries as if there isn't enough. If I add food to the bowl, you'll often hear a cat sprint downstairs to get to the food and it's always Boris.

Boris is a little demanding.

Besides the food demands, Boris will whine and complain if he doesn't have enough fresh water. He'll sit there and meow in protest of his lack of water. If that doesn't work, he dips his paw into the bowl and starts sloshing the water out of it and all over the floor. Lately, he's just taken to dumping the whole thing over to get me to fill it up with some fresh water. I thought briefly about getting a filtered pet water fountain, but I figured he'd then start complaining if the filter wasn't fresh, so I dropped that idea.

Boris also is demanding of Suzie on getting cleaned. Our old cat, Moe, cleaned his hard-to-reach areas like any other cat by twisting his head around or putting saliva on his paw and rubbing it on his out-of-reach areas. Boris just walks up to Suzie when she's cleaning herself and drops down in front of her. This is her cue to start bathing him. One gets the picture of an old emporer lounging while a bather cleans him.

Boris is an attention whore.

Moe liked his attention, but usually just from us. Boris, on the other hand, prefers his attention givers like doctor's prefer their patients, with a pulse. There hasn't been a person that Boris hasn't prompted for attention.

He's climbed onto the laps of door-to-door salespeople, a water softener representative, a gas company tech and various kids that have come over. He even rolled onto his back when he was chained up outside on Halloween so
the parade of kids could all pet him. He's like the town doorknob: everyone gets a turn.

Now that I have a laptop computer, Boris jets for my lap when I have it on. He must love the warmth that comes off of it because I can't keep him off my lap for too long.

The up side is that he's a friendly cat to everyone, which is also a downside. I've mentioned before that Moe could be very aggressive and attacked people he didn't know (or acted like he was going to). While I counted on Moe to scare away any burglar that might break in, I get the feeling that Boris will just follow the burglar around purring and rubbing against the burglar's leg while the burglar robs us blind.

Boris is incredibly lazy.

I know cats sleep a lot, but Boris has taken it up a notch. He just seems to sleep all the time. Oh sure, he gets up to eat and drink, but then he lies down to do it. As you can see in the pictures here, he lies down down on his side to drink or eat. Granted, he could stand up and stoop over his bowl like any other animal, but that would be asking too much of him. once, I saw him get up from a long nap in his favorite chair, lie down to drink and then fall asleep in mid-drink because it was so much effort to move over from his nap chair to take that drink. He also lies
down to eat.




I'm exaggerating a little. Boris doesn't sleep all the time, but he does spend a large amount of time eating, drinking and getting attention when he isn't asleep.

What I am happy about is that Laura got her wish. Boris is more than willing to lie there and cuddle. To that end, he's a great cat.