on another note - domestic cat crisis - definitely cf-related

[Guest guest]

Well, early this afternoon (I live in an apartment house now), my neighbor

let her cat, , out for a stroll down the hall; I was in the

process of emptying the trash and simultaneously back in the apartment,

cooking up what my children always called either stoup

or stewp--somewhere inbetween a heavy soop and a thick stew--in

the crockpot. Well, (no dummy, that cat!) smelled it all and dove

into my apartment and I got him just as he was attacking my electric

crock pot, and not a moment too soon. I look like a battered woman!

, as usual, looked like a gentleman in a tuxedo! However, he was

not to be deterred, and noticed that I had not put away all the groceries

that had been delivered--just yet--and launched an attack on a tri-tip

piece of beef--it was a tug of war, but the beef and I won--no scratches

this time. By now he was so frustrated that he bit into the neck of a bot

tle of dish detergent (that smelly liquid junk) and got himself sprayed with

the latest fragrance! He wanted OUT! Meanwhile, his owner had

gone downstairs, just assuming that was having himself a good long

visit with me, as he often does--now that my stuff no longer reeks

of the doggies. So I was stuck with detergent-covered . So, I

put on those big, thick, blue kitchen gloves that cover about most of

the forearm and I actually bathed the little dear by holding him from the

back of his neck and his withers and holding him under my shower. I

put a large bath sheet on the floor of the bathroom, closed the door, and

just left him to dry himself off. After a while, there was a faint " mew, "

and I opened the door and a resoundingly defeated emerged,

behaving awfully politely. I gave him a kittie biscuit or two. He sat on

my desk and just looked forlornly at me. I went on working at the com

puter. Finally, without extending his claws, the poor little guy lept into

my lap and began licking my salty hands and arms, and PURRING!

I actually felt sorry for him. Pretty soon his owner, Betty, knocked on my

door and said, " Now isn't that sweet; he just loves visiting you--no won

der! " I decided not to enlighten her. They just left, and I just finished

vacuuming up the cat hair, etc. But I felt sort of mean, having protected

my food so ardently, so I got out a little plastic bag and put some of his

favorite biscuits in it, and trotted down the hall to give them to Betty,

who of course invited me in. I declined, but heard her saying to ,

as I departed, " Now she just loves you, , " and there was a tiny little

" mew, " much quieter than his usual voice. I still feel like a bully--but it

WAS funny! And definitely cf-related--took my mind off of EVERYTHING!

n Rojas, who is not allergic to cats