Cat On A Cool, Shingled Roof (PQW 4/25/12)

I’ve heard rumors that you can be a cat owner and go on to live a normal life. I have not yet experienced this sort of phenomena. We have a dog that we’ve had since shortly after getting married. She’s a wonderful family member and considered one of our children. I’ve read many studies that show that animals can lower your blood pressure, and I believe that could be true (most of the time) of our dog. However, the people who did this study should meet my cat.

Last night, she happened to be stuck on our roof, but I’ll get to that in a minute. Our cat arrived into our lives in December of 2009 after my husband stopped all 4 lanes of traffic on highway 17 to rescue a kitten who believed he was evil incarnate, apparently. She was somewhat injured and Craig has a big heart because he chased her all over the place. He managed to grab the fur ball and bring her home to a confused wife. I like cats, but I wasn’t sure we needed one. After paying her vet bill, she definitely became a Davis and was graced with the name Noel since it was right before Christmas. She’s a lovely cat! She’s a long-haired calico and she is unequivocally insane. She happily sleeps most nights on the end of our bed...or between us...or on Craig’s head. She enjoys a good sunbeam like most kitties and is a fantastic mouser. Her favorite thing to do is stalk our 4 year old. She hides in the baby nursery and leaps out at Carson when he’s running down the hallway, which makes him shriek and then laugh like crazy. She throws her own toys in the air and does wild acrobatics throughout our living room. If there is a moth in the house, we will probably lose a lamp. She absolutely refuses to allow you to use the bathroom without company. And...she was just on our roof.

When Craig came to tell me she was on the roof (again), I quoted the wise words of my father: “Have you ever see a cat skeleton on a roof? She’ll get down.” Last time, she got down by climbing a branch that was touching our house. That branch is long gone and I thought about that around midnight when I could hear the cries of my sweet damsel in distress (or maybe it was “Romeo, Romeo...” I don’t know since I don’t speak cat). I quietly slipped out of bed, donned my shoes and went out into the cool, night air to check on her and offer encouragement. She seemed genuinely stumped by her predicament and I was duped into helping her...by making myself look like an idiot. After several ridiculous failed attempts, I gave up and went to bed. She greeted us in the garage this morning, looking especially innocent. 

She’s no dummy. It’s debatable about her owners.