Them whacky feral cats


Blondie the feral cat

Last night I spent the night crashing at my campsite in the hills for the first time in a month.  I had spent the previous month living in a little hotel room in Oakland, recovering from detached retina eye surgery.  I could’ve stayed at the hotel for another month if I had wanted to. But I couldn’t wait to get out of there.  Couldn’t wait to get back on the streets.  And it felt great to be back.

Some people might think it odd that I’d prefer to be “homeless” than the creature-comforts of a roof over my head.  What can I say?  I’m an odd person.  The blue jays have been swooping down all morning, scarfing up the bread I tossed out. And right now this young deer — this beautiful fawn — is staring at me quizzically from behind a tree, about 15 yards away from me.  You don’t get those kind of kicks living in a little hotel room in Oakland.

Saw Blondie the feral cat last night for the first time in a month.  She did something last night that she’d never done before in all these years.  She actually called out to me and woke me up while I was sleeping.  She didn’t so much as “meow.”   It was more like this cooing sound, like a loud purring sound:  “PPP-DDDTTT!!”  Which translated into English as:  “Wake up and FEED me!!”  Then she hovered over me as I took out the cat food.  That was kind of unprecedented for Blondie, too.  She’s usually incredibly timid.  So I knew she was really hungry to be so bold.

About 20 minutes later, after polishing off all the food, Blondie made that loud, cooing sound again.  Sort of her way of saying:  “Thanks and good night.”  And then she disappeared off into the woods.

Now it’s morning and this goddam wild turkey just showed up.  Damn buzzards.  I can’t STAND those turkeys. I’ve hated those goony-birds ever since that time when I stepped into a big pile of turkey shit while walking around barefoot.  Plus, they’ll eat up all the cat food.  “BEAT IT!!” I shouted, throwing a couple of big branches in it’s direction. . .

Shit. I was actually in a good mood for a couple of minutes there . . .

*                                           *                                                   *

Moo Cat, holding her ground.

My second night back at my campsite.  Funny scene last night.  I stupidly brought up a bunch of greasy leftover french fries and hamburgers to my campsite.  Even worse, the zipper on my backpack completely broke.  So there was no way to hide the scent of the food.  Not surprisingly, I was soon surrounded by a pack of growling raccoons, circling around me on the verge of a feeding frenzy.

But you should have seen Moo Cat.  Standing tall and brave while she was perched on top of my chest.  Growling right back at those raccoons and giving them this fierce-looking stare-down.  What a tough cat she is!  The Defiant One!!  Course if I hadn’t been there to give her back-up, she would’ve been running up that hill so fast it wouldn’t be funny.  Ha ha.



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