Okay, so everyone who reads along knows that Oliver has never been touched by these hands— and probably never will be. Of course, I could trick him and catch him, but what is the point? He is free to go and come and if he doesn’t feel the need to be touched, well some of us don’t like strangers touching us either. That leads me to the point that I am at the beach with my family and Oliver is in Chattanooga doing whatever it is he does.
Of course, I couldn’t just go off and leave all the outside things — mostly animals that pass through — with no one to look after them. So, dear Maggie and SinDe are taking turns looking after everything.
We haven’t been gone for a full two weeks yet and already Oliver is having issues. Maggie rang me up last night all worried about the orange thing that dresses up like a cat and comes to eat. For anyone who may have forgotten, Oliver adopted us a little over a year ago. (Senior moment…. at least a year ago, maybe longer.) Anyway, he first started passing through along with several other cats. Then he started making two visits a day. Pretty soon he was present for a morning feeding, a couple of afternoon nibbles, dinner, and a midnight snack. Anyway, you get the idea. Oliver has taken up residence in the garage. He actually sleeps on some old bedding that is on a top shelf. And, please don’t even ask why there is an old quilt folded up on a top garage shelf. I can’t even remember when it got there, how or why. But, it’s there and I suppose it was meant for Ollie.
Okay, so I am easy. I bought him Friskies and he made it a point to let me know how much he liked them — by refusing to eat the Meow Mix I bought on sale. Now, here’s the thing. Oliver is independent. I have never touched him. My husband has never touched him. No one that I know has ever touched him. So, he is feral or to put it bluntly, Oliver is a stray cat that found a steady source of food and water, year round.
That brings me back to the phone call from Maggie. Ollie is playing her for all it is worth. He is a stray cat that does not allow anyone to pet him. STRAY! So, first he won’t eat Meow Mix, because he prefers Friskies….. he’s a STRAY CAT! Now, according to Maggie, Ollie pushes all the darker pieces of Friskies to one side of the plate. Putting his food to one side or in a line isn’t that odd. The cat has an OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). Maybe I haven’t mentioned that before, but he does eat so that all his food — the left overs — are in a perfect line.
Well, according to Maggie, now he is picking out all the dark colored pieces and refusing to eat them. He’s working her for all he can. Anyway, Maggie, being worried about Oliver, read on the label that the darkest pieces are liver flavored. So, Maggie is now picking the dark pieces out of the bag and saving them for Happy’s black and white cat that will eat anything.
When I asked Maggie why should would sort and organize the Friskies, her best answer was that she did not like liver and never made her kids eat liver when they were growing up and she was not about to start making a “poor hungry cat” (that would be Oliver) eat something that distasteful.
Am I the only one who is beginning to realize that this spring and summer at the beach could be creating a monster back in Chattanooga? Well, today I am thankful for Maggie who is very diligently looking after Ollie. She will figure him out soon enough. And, it seems that he already has her number. I am so thankful for both.
