The Knitting Fiend

Can you believe this cute kitty was abandoned?

Yep. Here’s the tale.

One day, in September of 2003, my husband glanced and saw a black cat standing by the door; he turned to me and said: “Oh, there’s Pie-baby. She must be cold! Let her in.” I started for the door, and heard hissing on our side. When I looked I saw it was our coal black Piewacket, who seemed to be staring at her mirror image on the other side of the door!

As I approached the door, Piewacket’s doppleganger fled.

This repeated itself from about once a month throughout the fall and winter. The cat would stare in our window, and then flee if either Jim or I came near.

As time passed, we got a better view of the stranger-puss, and realized he was very much a “he”, and quite a bit larger framed than Piewacket. Also, unlike our bowling ball Piewacket, he seemed young and thin, but his coat looked sleek and fine, so we didn’t worry. I came to call him “Stranger-puss”.

As spring came and the weather warmed, Stranger-puss kept returning. Jim and I like to eat on our patio, and Stranger-puss often showed up around dinner time. He always seemed afraid, yet, somehow wanting to approach, seeming to look longingly at us from afar. I didn’t want to feed someone else’s cat, but I saw he looked thin and hungry. I began to call him “Skinny-kitty”.

By July, I began fixing small bowls of dry food.

We developed a routine. I would bring a bowl of food; he would dash 20 ft away and hide under a shrub. Then, I’d move away from the bowl, and eat. I started to sit closer and closer to the bowl. By September, I was able to pet him as he ate. By October, he began to beg me to pet him and roll over after I fed him.

Petting him, I could see just how skinny he was. I worried that winter was coming. So, I got an idea! I’d just adopt him.

Jim and I discussed this. “Lucia, you can’t just kidnap someone’s cat.” I responded, “I know. But, he’s going to be so cold.” Jim responded, “I know.” We both sighed.

I thought some more; I got another idea. I found an old collar, attached a note and put it around his neck. It said, “Please call xxx-yyyy”; then we let Blackie roam.

For a week, I received no calls. I was beginning to think I could just adopt him! Then, the phone rang. The man identified himself as the black cat’s owner. So, I explained that I’d been wanting to adopt his cat, and we chit - chatted. He told me the cats name was Blackie. I wrote down the man’s number, just in case I should ever need it.

I couldn’t adopt this sweetie! But, he still came by constantly. Some of you may remember I wrote about him in December, 2004. He always wanted to be petted, but didn’t want to come in. So, Jim and I rigged up this silly cat hut, which Blackie huddled in during much of December. In January, Jim designed and built a better cat hut for Blackie. Blackie spent a lot of time in there.

When the thermometer dipped below 0^oF ^{( btw: 0 F = -17.7 C )} Blackie finally got the courage to come in the door. My other cats weren’t too accepting, and hissed at him. He would just sit and stare, then rush up to me for protection! Finally, he took to sitting in the computer room while I typed.

Still, at promptly, at 6 pm, Blackie would dash off in the direction of Steeple Run, the subdivision where his official owner lived. One weekends, he would vanish.

This continued for a long time, and everything was fine. Jim and I figured Blackie must dash out before his owner goes to work, and what could his owner do? You have to go to work. Then Blackie would go back to meet his “Dad”.

In June, things changed. I had gone on vacation at the end of May and returned early June. I had given Jim instructions to feed the cat, and he reported that Blackie had visited faithfully every night and day while I was gone. But, I noticed he was thinner. “But, I fed him!”, said Jim.

Now, I believed Jim, but, when I petted Blackie, he was distinctly thinner. Jim took a look and agreed. We muttered, “Maybe he’s been truly dumped.”

Blackie greedily ate everything we gave him; he visited more and more. He was here at breakfast, lunch, dinner. It was warm, and he didn’t want to come in and face our hostile cats, but slept on top of our shed all the day, and I was pretty sure he spent the nights there too.

My neighbor noticed Blackie looked sort of “dirty”, as though he wasn’t finding a completely secure location spot to sit and groom. I kept thinking: “I should call the owner. I should call. I really should call.

Finally, the second week in July, I did call. Turned out they had moved. The owner said he’d lost my number, but didn’t think he should take Blackie to the pound. We had some vague chit-chat. I kept thinking: “Why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want him last summer?”. I did tell him I was glad he didn’t take Blackie to the pound.

Now, Blackie is mine. He and Orange are a bit cagey toward each other but they are getting along. I took Blackie to get all his shots. As you can see, the 13 lbs of “Skinny-kitty” is loving our yard! Now that it’s summer, he likes to sit on the patio with me while I knit. Today, I’m going to work on my afghan - scarf while he snuggles up to my ankles.

Blackie is a very sweet kitty!

Now that I see Blackie constantly, I can tell he sneezes constantly. It turns out both he and Orange-puss have colds. The vet gave me some medicine, which should cure both cats. Although, maybe Blackie will want to keep his cold; once, he’s over his cold, he’s going to be an “former-He.” (I hope he forgives me!)