So, since mid summer, a stray cat has been hanging out in my yard. He (and I use that term lightly, I really have no idea) would come around if we were out back, cooking on the grill and make goo goo eyes till we fed him. He was gutsy enough to chill with us so I had no problem letting him dine with us. As the season changed to autumn I continued to feed him, leaving a bowl of cat food outside for him. I noticed he liked to nap on my potter's bench so I put a old seat cushion out there for him. That was enough for him to make the yard his own. I've nicknamed him Max (from the dog in How The Grinch Stole Christmas).
It's obvious he trusts me because none of the other neighbourhood strays stick around if I'm outside. Max will come from whatever hideyhole he lives in as soon as he hears the basement door open, knowing 'she who gives food' is around. Naturally, I've been toying with the idea of letting him into the house. I opened the basement door a couple of weeks ago, but didn't come out, myself. Max peered inside, meowed, and cautiously walked in. I gave him a bowl of food to eat, inside. He ate a bit, but bolted out the door when some leaves flew by. We kept this up for a while until a bad snow storm. I didn't see him for days and feared the worst. Also, with my new hours, (I leave before dawn) I haven't seen much of him. Weekends were pretty much the only time I saw him.
Woke up this morning, went down to the basement, opened the door, and did the obligatory psspsspss noises, calling him by name. Sure enough, he bounced over the yard wall and ran up to me. No hesitation this time, he came right in, looking for his dish. As he entered, I slowly closed the door behind him.
Then I stood there wondering if I was ready to commit to this path
. I walked upstairs to find Lou still in bed. I must have had some look on my face because he asked me what I was up to. I said "there's a cat in the basement". He asked if it was Max and I replied that it was. He asked if I knew what I was doing, and I replied that I had no clue. I'd just put 10 mini loaves of brioche into the oven, but instead of watching the bread, I headed to the supermarket to get a cat litter box and the fixings for that, plus some 'wet' as Lou put it, food. That was 7am.
Max meowed for a while, looking at the doors, and wondering what was going on. See, there is a bad storm going on right now, and I just don't have the heart to let him weather it under some bush in some yard. So, after exploring all 3 floors of my home, he's finally settled down. He knows where the food dish is, and I think he knows where and what the litter box is. Right now, he's curled up on the sofa watching a Perfect Storm on tv. He actually moved over so Lou and I could sit, too.
If he hangs out for the week I'll take him to a vet to get him checked out. He's pretty cool looking, too. Black and white with white paws and one black spot on one paw Nice eyes, too.
I really have no idea what I got myself into...but I just couldn't let him freeze out there, ya know.
Anyone else ever take in a stray cat?