When I lived in Saint Louis, I was alone with three cats in an apartment building erected in 1929. (Yes, I giggled at that word too.) I slept on my futon without pulling it into a bed. I didn’t even have pillows.
I worked second shift so I got off at 11 p.m., went home, or went drinking and went home, or went drinking, found a boy and EVENTUALLY went home, slept until 2 p.m. and went back work at 3.
Once a day my phone would ring. Now this is back in 2001. I was cheap and single and had dial-up. So it was my HOME PHONE with NO CALLER ID and often NOT at my designated periods of wakefulness of 2-3 p.m. and 2-3 a.m..
The calls were rarely HEY COME OUT WITH US YOU ARE SO AWESOME. But I was hopeful. And hungover. And too stupid to unplug my phone.
Instead I gave a weak: hello?
The EVERY SINGLE TIME my apartment manager replied: Is your cat in the stairwell?
Me: NO. Which one?
Apartment manager: Two of them.
Me: NO! They are ALL right here with me.
And then I would spend thirty minutes trying to find my three cats in four-hundred square foot studio apartment.
When enough time had passed (or the phone rang AGAIN), I would peek out my front door. If the hallway was clear, I would tiptoe like a ballerina on speed to the stairwell.
MEOW MEOW
Two cats would look up at me. And the third one would be around the corner.
Me: Sorry guys.
And I’d tiptoe them home.
Thanks to Where Hot Comes To Die for reminding me of the awesomeness that is this story. Or at least reminding me that I was probably in someone’s blog as they listened to my cats meow down the hallway AGAIN.
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When first married, we rented a farmhouse. Not the farm. Police often called to inform us that our COWS were out on the highway. Would have much rather rounded up cats. Also, I once looked up from the sink to see a cow staring me right in the eye. Afraid of cows to this day. xo
I’ve always been a dog person but, as I get older, I find myself leaning cat. I don’t need one more thing needing me and we all know that cats don’t need anybody.
My husband thinks cats are possessed by the devil. But I like them. They are rude, hostile, aloof, suffocatingly sweet, and so much fun.
Your story totally reminded me of the days when I actually answered my phone when it rang because otherwise, I might never know who called. Hard to believe we are so far away from those days already.
Oh, and btw, I have already majorly failed at the no TV challenge. My husband let the kids watch like 3 hours yesterday morning while I slept in. I forgot about the husband factor. Ooops.
This is probably not a good time to mention I don’t like cats.
Well, I imagine with the three hundred dogs in your apartment complex, you won’t have to worry about too many cat visits. And you might stop liking dogs soon, too.
During my partying phase of life I, too, lived in one such building and had a cat. She got stuck in the stairwell once. All night. I felt terrible about it, because she was like my child.
I’ve never had cats… but can imagine that scenario happening if I did. And sometimes? I worry it might happen with my kids… kidding… kidding… :)
That Is a great story! I love cats, they rule the world.
I know the feeling. I have a large dog who occasionally escapes. He has never hurt a flea and even cleans “his” kitties but if he gets out my neighbors all start calling me one after another in a panic because they think he’s Cujo or something.
You didn’t fully disclose the cat situation when I befriended you. I might get an extra 30 minutes of TV penalty-free this week because of this important omission.
Ahem…I have that problem now with my dog.
In 2001, I doubt you were in anyone’s blog. And cats are just like that.
For the record, I TOTALLY could’ve been in dooce’s blog. If she had lived in the midwest instead of wherever she lived then
What an irresponsible pet owner!!!
Just kidding. Blame the sneaky cats.
Ah pets, and the trouble they cause. I woke up to find that my dog had peed and pooped right in the middle of the family room floor where my son plays all day. Awesome. 3rd time in 6 months since moving here. Seriously thinking about taking the collar off, opening the front door, and breathing a sigh of relief (calm down PETA and SPCA people – just a fantasy I have).
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