I let a cat into my apartment building a few days ago…
…and I’ve become increasingly concerned with its well-being.
I was leaving through the back door, on the way to the garbage bin, and jumped a little when I saw movement. The white cat and I looked at each other for about a split-second, and then it made for the still-open door. My automatic thought was “after you sir” (including a hand-sweeping gesture) and I held it open before realizing that it was a cat, not a human neighbour. Before I had time to rethink, it was inside and the door shut. I went about my day.
But my building isn’t very cat-friendly. Pets are allowed, but there’s far too many heavy doors that would be impossible for a cat to use even if they were propped open. The area the cat entered was, at most, 30 square feet before it would be presented with a door.
I haven’t seen it since. Where did it go? It was a very fast cat and I’d imagine anyone trying to get it outside would have a difficult time. The day I let it in, the weather was fairly nice; but it’s been moody since then, and the not the kind of weather a cat would trade for the comfort of inside. So where is it?
I have an interesting relationship with cats. I’m allergic, and I’ve always been a dog person, but I talk to cats all the time. I’m always waiting for the phonetic coincidence when I meow something in fluent cat and get a “holy shit, that guy speaks cat!” reaction; followed by a lifetime friendship. At my last apartment, within a week of moving in, a black cat batted at my window to get my attention. Over the next year he’d come by often and we’d hang out together; not talking but just enjoying each other’s company. Excluding the smell of Vij’s on my morning walk to the bus stop, that cat is what I miss the most about the old apartment.
I read (or watched) somewhere that cats have a certain brain wave that’s different that any other species; something about constant alpha or beta waves. I tried looking it up but couldn’t find any evidence, so I think it might have been fiction. But now I’ve obviously forgotten so many details that I have no hope of ever figuring it out.
I’m also fascinated about the myth of a cat’s three names. How there’s one we give them, one they use amongst other cats, and their real name that only they know. If you guess their real name, they go away forever. When I first heard about that, I stopped myself from meowing at them for about in year in fear that I’d finally hit my phonetic coincidence but it would simultaneously ruin any chance of forming a relationship with the surprised feline.
One time, late at night, I was walking home to an even-older apartment and saw a cat in middle of the road. I didn’t think much of it until I passed a “lost cat” sign the next block over that described the cat I’d just seen. I didn’t have my cell phone with me (presumably), so I took the poster and walked back to find the cat. I coaxed it into my arm and uncomfortably (dog person; I don’t know how to carry a cat or if it’s even done) carried it home. The second I opened the door it bolted back into the night and was gone. I called the owners who informed me that it wasn’t their cat, but actually a neighbourhood cat who had already been “rescued” about a half dozen times since they lost their’s. I still don’t understand why it was so willing to come with me, but bolt the second we ended up somewhere that I could feed it.
Anyway, I really wish I knew what happened to that white cat.
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