That Damn Cat

One night, I was coming home from work. As I walked up the stairs fumbling through my pockets for the keys, there was this cat sitting in front of my door. As soon as it saw me, it ran past me and down the stairs. I must have scared the hell out of it as much as it startled the hell out of me. It looked hungry so I pulled a slice of meat from a sandwich I hadn't finished for lunch at work, placed it on a napkin, and set it near the top of the stairs. I beckoned for the cat to come and get the food, until I realized that it was no use getting a cat to understand what I was saying, and in a high pitched voice to boot. I felt silly and went into the house. I went and looked out the window to see that the cat had come and picked up the meat and dragged it away to some secluded place.

I felt good. Feeding a hungry cat is a bit of a boost.

That was two years ago. Now that cat, she, has become a well known hobocat around my neighborhood, making my front lawn and stairs her top squatting place. I am not generally a cat person, I never owned one, but they can stink up a place. Cat funk permeates the halls leading to my front door.

I tried to get rid of her. I stopped feeding her. I shooed her away, a lot. But she keeps coming back.

I called my grandmother and told her about the cat. My grandma, being an old country gal, told me about how cats that hang around your house are bad luck. They are harbingers of death, to put it simply. Awesome, I have a brown and white little death magnet at my doorstep.

My grandma told me to put cayenne pepper around where the cat usually sleeps, that'll get rid of her. So I buy some pepper, sprinkle it around where I know the cat sleeps. And it worked.
But the cat found a new spot. The process repeated every time I sprinkled places with pepper. All it got me was watery eyes and sneezing fits.

I recall many times at night during the summer where I was awakened by the The yowling...the yowling when she was in heat, only to go outside with a bucket of water to find that my porch is littered with 3 or 4 more cats.

Every time, I come home she follows me to the door looking for handouts. Actually, it's more like she ambushes me from different angles depending on the night. She can hop down from the tree in front of my house. From behind the banister. From my neighbor's lawn. From the window sill to the right of my door. I live with two other people, so one or both of them had to be feeding her. I shoo her away, she doesn't go very far. She sits in front of the door, for a half hour at least, waiting for someone to come back. It's creepy dedication.

When I leave for work in the morning, she's the first thing I see outside. I always brush past her. But she stares at me as I walk down the street. Staring at me as I wait at the corner to cross the street. Little white and brown ball staring at me. I thought it was kinda funny for a moment.

But it still continued.

Just a blank stare.

I guess it's a step down from when she used to follow me to the bus stop.

However, lately it has gotten better, though I still look over my shoulders every time I open my gate. I have to sneak up the stairs. Make no sounds as I close the gate and search for keys, I usually have them out when I get off my bus.

The other night, I came home from work and she was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk cleaning herself. As soon as she saw me coming out from the corner of her eye, she stops what she was doing, and stares blankly at me.

I walk past it trying not to make eye contact with it, just like what people do when they try to ignore people they want to avoid. I was hoping that she would scamper off somewhere else upon the realization that I wasn't who she thought I was. I got a half a block away from my house, looked over my shoulder to find that blank stare was still aimed at me.

"Shit, shit, she knows it's me!"

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk and looking back probably gave me away.

But she eventually turned around and continued what she was doing.

While her back was turned, I felt it was an opportunity to sneak in my house. Any noise I had to make, I had to cover up with the sounds of the passing cars down my street. I felt so stupid.

However, as I walked up the stairs, keys out, I was feeling victorious. I felt a rush, as silly and overblown the situation was, it was a rush.

I was home free...

Until I kicked over an empty tray on my stairs.

I winced.

A car passed by as it happened, so maybe the sound was covered up.

I looked over my shoulder and saw her coming from the sidewalk, through my gate, and up the stairs. That cat could probably hear the sun come up.

A situation similar to that of a horror movie as the potential victim rushes to her apartment door and fumbles for her keys, racing against time and the killer's advancing footsteps.

Except the woman was replaced by a 6-foot 200+ Lb. black guy, and the killer, a 3 lb. cat.

I made it inside my house just in time, as that damn cat waited outside in normal fashion.

Cats are a lot smarter than I thought. And more than capable to fuck with you with their mind games.