Sunday, July 22, 2012

Jipzee The Cat

 
6 years ago when I moved home there were 4 cats, the youngest was just about a year, so he had pretty much grown out of his kitten looks and was becoming a cat. He slept on my bed with “my” kitty and we played fingers, which usually ended with me putting a band aid on my ripped finger, I wasn’t fast enough moving my fingers under the blanket.

Mama Dunacn and the Puppy found him stuck in a woodpile at he was trapped. He was only little and his survival skills are often in question.

All of our cats, minus the first one have been indoor cats, we learned as the first one tried to stand up to cars and fought with anything that it could fight with that indoor cats live longer and are happier. Mole and Pewter was and is afraid of the outdoors and the other two would race outdoors and wait to be caught not sure what to do next.

Jipzee always begged to go outside and we tried the pen, but he couldn’t be outside when anyone else was outside because he would cry and talk to us. We tried a leash but he needed to be everywhere at once. His coat was limp and dull, and he was a little chubby.
So in his sixth year my sister said just to leave him outside on his own. We weren’t sure of his outdoor knowledge or how it would work out. But he loves it. He gets up and out before breakfast, sleeps the afternoon on his favorite chair, and goes back out in the evening. His coat is shiny, he’s turned to muscle and his personality has just bloomed. Although there’s no more fingers or snuggles at night.


I’m watching him now prance across the garden behind Papa Duncan watering the vegetable garden, taking the role as garden companion replacing the puppy who is no longer with us. He catches birds and mice and leaves them on the doorstep as a thank you; which is more than we thought he could do.

And we understand why he sat and cried in the cage. When he see’s us outside and he’s not hunting he comes over and joins us, sits on the bench with us as we drink coffee or he sits on the picnic table seat as we eat lunch outside (this cat does not take any interest in the dinner table inside the house.)




When we go for a walk back the lane he comes to the edge of the property and begins to speak: “Mauooo” and “Hre row.” When we tell him it’s ok he follows us up the road, talking the whole time.
One night we sat back at the horses field keeping an eye on the senior horse, and he came and sat with us, walking around the Adirondack chairs then explored the neighbours house coming back to check on us and hear what we were talking about.


                                

His nick names are “princess” and “gentlemen” “little man” "the dude" and“Ma Boo” and he’s just one of the most interesting personalities I know.






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