I have invited you to let me tell you about Tom, my amazing friend of the feline specie. Love for the feline specie comes from the story of Peter Rabbit and Mr. Mcgregor wherein the white tabby is grooming herself by a pool of water. Later I collected insects and rocks growing up to becoming a chemist with a major oil company and later a college chemistry instruc-tor. Moving to other cities, family, etc. I lost contact with that field. Among other things, I have performed as a singer, speaker, museum docent, book recorder, newspaper reader for the blind; worked to establish a lighting business and got a mas-ters degree in radio/tv production and performance. My latest work is writing popular fiction, novels. I will try to entertain with stories about Tom and what I've learned about cats.


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.

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Tom, a Common Tabby but a Noble Cat

Tom, the Alarm Cat
Is it too cold at night for a cat to be outside? Maybe, cats like people number among themselves those who are cold blooded and those who are warm blooded. Tom is a southern cat from Texas. I am from the middle of the country, regarded as
southern in the north and northern south of where I live now -- Oklahoma.
Tom does not like to face cold winds if it is freezing outside. Now that the
temperatures remain above freezing at night he asks to be let out just before
dark. Yes, he sits down by the door. However, sometimes it is a game which might be called, "Yes, I fooled you", and he retreats away from the door. After
doing this several times, he either goes out on his own, of I push him on out with the ball of my foot. He wants out; but before the night is over, he wants back inside. He can jump up to the ground floor window ledges and peer inside
just as he does when inside looking out. When he discovers the room I am in, he speaks. First, he speaks in a questioning manner, then becomes more strident. If he importunes to be let in before ten o'clock, and I open the door, he enters the house. Instead of checking out his food dish, perhaps he will proceed from his entrance door to the other door to go right back out. Another game --"Fool
My Benefactor".
If it is not too cold for him, and he stays out through the night, it may be that
he must rouse the door keeper. So he knows where I sleep and again keeps up his
interminable request at the window. His voice is too loud to ignore and he is never discouraged. For the moment he grants me an interval by going to the door, but if not finding it open to him, he is back at the window. Thus, he is just
another alarm clock I can't shut off.
Now he does have another option which he has often retired to when the weather is
wet or cold. He crams himself into the ash vent behind the fireplace. It is there for the ashes to be removed on the patio side. Then when he hears the door
opening, he is inside like a lightning flash.
Another quirk. Once I am up and have let him in, I go into the garage to turn off the switch to the yard light. My neighbors' lights all go off controlled with
a light sensor. Mine had a timer which set the off and on times. The timer wore
out, so I have to turn on and off the switch in the garage. Tom insists on going
with me to turn it off in the morning. He wouldn't miss those steps into the garage with me, all before he begins his breakfast. But then, as you may know, if you share life with a cat, he is big on routine.