Tom, the Timid

Despite being a larger feline, Tom has a streak of timidity, running from the doorbell, especially if a woman, allowing them to pick him up and pet him.  This refers to the women of my family, who all have, or have had, cats as their intimate friends.  You wouldn't expect such a hesitant attitude from a big 10.5-pound large cat with long fore and hind legs and a long ringed tail.  His paws are also large and he throws weight behind his paws and tail.  After naps he stretches legs and the hind leg stretch is like that of a ballet dancer. His paws are large with large spreading toes and pack a wallop as does the lash of his tail.  He lets me lift him more now after three years living with me than he did, but really does not like to be picked up, and struggles to get down if it takes too long for me to put him where I want him (when he doesn't follow on his own).  During holiday gatherings he hides under the bed.  This cat is prescient and appears out of nowhere when I sit down at the computer, or to read.  He has found me here and is in the way of my hands, so I end today's report. 

 

 

"Tom", a Common Tabby, but a Noble Cat

WELCOME

This is for all of you who love cats, who live with one, or more,.  It is also for those of you who value friendship and enjoy the company of others.  I welcome you into my life, about my cat and me.  It may be we have other like interests and special loves than cats and friendship, be-cause I like to share, at times, some special insights, or some degree of enlightenment that may spring upon me.  So, please join me for a little part of your day.

 

 

Tom came to me as the third owner, or mistress of ythis feline.  His first owner was a man who had to move away and gave him to my daughter, who gave him to me when she was going through a divorce.  The first thing he did when let loose in my house was go into the open fire-place and climb up out of sight into the chimney.  He did not come down out of there, although my daughter called and called him.  Time elapsed.  We called a chimney sweep service, and got only the answering service.  We left a message.  Pardon our ignorance as to what the construc-tion of the inside of a chimney is.  We thought Tom might be trapped in a space he could not get down from.  The dark of night descended and no Tom appeared.  Day arrived.  We went out on an errand.  Tom came out from the fireplace covered in black soot and ran upstairs and under a bed with a white lace spread that touched the floor, leaving a black path on the white lace. 

I dragged him out from under the bed and took him to the nearest fawcett to clean off the soot.  The chimney service called and received an explanation of the previous night's call. 

Before I solved the problem, Tom had entered the chimney two more times the same weekend.  My daughter left the classic tuxedo tabby in his new home, and the first thing I did, after intro-ducing him to food and water was to go out on a Monday morning and buy a firplace screen that fit against the brickwork of the fireplace and duct tape it to the bricks on both sides.  I had to place the fan-shaped brass cover in front of that.  Tom jumped on the hearth and looked it over carefully, but could not devise a way into the opening to jump up onto some ledge inside.  I often wonder how high the ledge was in the chimney.  For a while he looked for some dark place to go to, but in a week or two he adjusted to his new home and gradually stopped paying attention to the fireplace.  Much more followed.