Rudy is a young black-and-white cat, no more than a year old, and friendly as all get-out. I’m terribly allergic to cats, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t let the little guy in. So, my son stayed outside to keep the feline critter company while I made lunch. It wasn’t long before he ran up to the kitchen yelling, “Mommy! You have to come outside and see the kitty. You have to!”
Some of you might understand that when a young child utters such words with such urgency, you don’t want to see what all the ruckus is about. But I put down my spatula, turned down the heat in the fry pan, and followed my excited child downstairs and out the door.
What I saw wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, but it was equivalent to a cat getting stuck in a tree. Li’l Rudy, as we later came to know him, was stuck behind the Plexiglas backing between the roof of the garage and the roof of the overhang that protects a portion of the driveway from rain and snow—no doubt installed there for the very purpose of keeping small furry creatures from hiding out in that prime area of shelter. But Rudy managed to find a gap between the Plexiglas and the garage wall and squeezed on up there… And couldn’t get back out.
Last year, when we first moved here, we encouraged two young stray tabbies to hang around our house by placing bowls of cat food and water by the patio door leading into the kitchen. We didn’t do it for long, however, because we soon learned that un-neutered male cats are rather unpleasant (Smelly!) companions when they think your home is theirs, and then mark it as their territory. Remembering that I still had a box of that cat food, I ran upstairs and poured our little friend a bowl, then crawled across the flat roof of the garage and placed the bowl below the gap where the cat had crawled through, then carefully climbed back down to wait.
Rudy was very interested in getting to that food. After trying to squeeze through the gap, he finally decided to twist his nimble body around the corner where the Plexiglas ended flush with the edge of the garage roof. He essentially bent himself in half, sideways, to reach the roof on the other side of the plastic shield. Cheering Rudy on, my son and I then returned to the house for our own meal, leaving Rudy to finish his and go back home.
But Rudy didn’t go home. He trotted along the side of the house to greet us at the back door while we ate. My son was outside in a flash and spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the little cat.
After a couple of hours, my son moved on to other things… he finally needed some downtime, so I let him watch TV. And while I busied myself in the house, the cat fell asleep in the sun outside the back door. It was quite late by then, close to 6:00 p.m., I think, and I started worrying about the cat.
Up until then, I figured he’d go on his way, meander back home. From his friendliness and the collar around his neck, it seemed clear to me that he had an owner, somewhere. And having lived with three outdoor cats (all of them spayed or neutered, by the way, a much nicer way of owning cats) for a goodly portion of my life, I was familiar with their wandering ways, and the fact that cats always come back home. But Rudy was looking mighty comfortable in that patch of sun in front of our kitchen door. And I worried about darkness falling, and him being left on his own in the cold April night, in the territory of two very wily stray cats who roam our gardens in this section of our neighborhood. Pitched against those two, Rudy would not fare well.
Watching him through our glass door (I’m severely allergic, remember), it seemed that what had appeared to be a design of the collar was actually printing. So, rolling up my sleeves, I went outside and took Rudy gently in my arms and held him in my lap while I worked his collar off. Sure enough, written on both sides of the collar were Rudy’s name and life story, such as it was. It seems that the little cat had lost his mother when he was a kitten, and had imprinted on people, explaining his amazing friendliness. Also written on the collar, to my immense relief, was a phone number. I put down the cat, grabbed up the phone and dialed the number. The owner, an older woman in her late 50s or early 60s, had clearly missed her darling feline (and darling he was!), and was quite happy to hear from me. A few minutes later, I met her in our driveway, and Rudy ran to her, happy to see his Mama.
I don’t think Rudy’s friendliness isn’t entirely due to having lost his mother shortly after birth. After watching him with his human Mama, who loved him enthusiastically and rocked him in her arms like a baby while he batted at her chin with his soft paws, claws safely tucked away, I think Rudy’s Mama has had a profound influence on his trust and affection for people.
My son and I were sad to see Rudy go, but are glad he’s back home with his loving Mama. She invited my son to come visit, and maybe we will. Or it may happen that we’ll find Rudy sunning himself on our back stoop again, and we’ll have to call his Mama to come pick him up. Either way, our lives were enriched by Rudy’s surprise visit.
Rudy takes a cat nap on our back stoop.
