How cold was it?

So, a few nights ago I decided to go out and visit Richard Donkle. I hadn’t seen him in what  seemed like a long time. It had snowed the previous night, about an inch, and it didn’t melt because the ground was so cold. Then the next night really cold weather blew in, what Mike calls an Alabama Clipper. I figured I could tolerate the cold and I headed straight for the Donkle’s, but as I went on I realized I had made a very poor choice. But by then it was too late because I was already halfway there, so it would be no faster to go back home. So, I decided to keep going. I hadn’t stopped to consider  that they might not let me in because they either wouldn’t be home or wouldn’t be in the kitchen to notice me. It just goes to show you that even wise middle-aged cats like me can make dumb decisions. I ran most of the way there without bothering too much about being evasive or finding cover and made it safely. I pawed at the sliding glass door to the kitchen and luckily Richie was in the kitchen and let me in.

“Well hello there Sambo,” he said. “Isn’t a little cold to be out and about?”

He reached down to pet me which I graciously allowed him to do momentarily. I even rubbed up against his leg a little bit.  I heard voices in the living room and I headed straight there. Richard and Bianca were sitting in the living room quietly, both of them reading. Richard was reading the Wall Street Journal and Bianca was reading something on a Kindle.

“Sambo, for goodness sakes I haven’t seen you for a while,” said Richard. “Isn’t it a little cold to be going out?”

I went and sniffed at both of them and he reached down to pet me. I jumped up on the white couch but Bianca shooed me off. Their maid, Ludmila, would have a fit if she found black hair on the sofa. They went back to reading, so I set about to explore things. I went downstairs to the theater room where Richie used to hang out with his girlfriend Hallie and their other friends. I didn’t get any whiff at all of anybody else besides the 4 people who lived in the house. Going back upstairs I encountered Joker who was in the laundry room having a big drink of water. He gave me a goofy grin and we sniffed at each other. I went on to the Donkle’s bedroom to check on Natasha and to see if she was in her usual place under the comforter on their bed. There was indeed a cat shaped lump under the comforter that smelled  like Natasha. Joker followed me around for a while until he lost interest. I went back to the living room and poked Richard’s leg until he got up and led me back into the kitchen saying, “Let’s see if we have some cream for you.”

“Don’t give him too much,” said Bianca calling after him. “He’ll get sick.”

“Sambo will be fine, won’t you Sambo?” Richard replied. He went to the refrigerator and got out a small carton. He took a small bowl out of the cupboard, put it on the floor, and put a little bit of cream in the bowl. It would’ve been nice if he had warmed it a little, but I didn’t have any way of telling him; and as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. I lapped it right up, and he enjoyed my enjoyment of the cream very much. After a while I was ready to leave, so I went over and pawed at the door.

“It’s too cold for you to go back outside,” said Richard. “You’ll have to spend the night here with us.”

I turned and looked at him as though he had lost his mind. But he was already headed back to the living room and didn’t see me. I prowled around some more, lurking near the kitchen in case somebody else walked in so I could be let out. After a while I started to think that maybe staying with the Donkle’s for the night wasn’t such a bad idea after all. It was plenty cold outside. Mike used to quote his father on the subject of how cold it was. Grandpa Moe used to say when it got really cold that it was colder than a well diggers ass in Siberia. I suppose that’s really cold, but I wouldn’t know. Anyway, I started checking out my options for a good spot to spend the night. As I’m sure you know, many cats enjoy sleeping with their people. Richard and Bianca’s bed was already occupied by Natasha whom I doubted would welcome me graciously. I could impose myself on her anyway but the confrontation did not seem worthwhile. Ludmila was definitely a poor choice. She hates me. The door to her room was already closed anyway. That was probably to my benefit. If she had already turned in I wouldn’t have to deal with her hostility until the morning. That left Richie. I had been in his room before. That was the time that Ludmila was chasing me with a mop and a lamp got knocked over by the side of his bed. So I  went to his room, and he was sitting in his chair looking at his phone. From time to time he would chuckle. I rubbed up against his leg and then jumped up on his bed. Eventually, he came to bed, turned off his light, and fell asleep; but I couldn’t get comfortable because of his tossing and turning. So, I went off to the laundry room where I had a drink of water, a snack of kibble, relieved myself in the litter box, and headed off to the living room to spend the night on the white couch.

You might think that I would know better than to antagonize Ludmila by leaving my hair all over the white couch. Actually, I didn’t think that much about it until it was too late. I’m not the sort of cat that would deliberately antagonize anybody just for the sake of it. There are cats like that. There are going to impose their will on the cats and people around them. There are people like that too. I’m sure you know some of them. My advice is to stay away from cats and people who care more about themselves than they do about anyone else. I have heard some people say that all cats think more about themselves than anyone else. I think it’s more that we are just very self-assured. I personally don’t mind sharing my territory with anyone who is willing to be nice. But let’s get one thing straight, it’s still my territory. And of course, this applies to wherever I happen to be at the time. I settled in for a good night sleep. I would deal with Ludmila in the morning.

Author: Black Magic

Black Magic is a handsome, charming, and self-absorbed cat who lives with Mike and Judy Gordon in Marietta, Georgia. He is about 7 years old, and he will remind you at every opportunity that his grandfather was Black Jack, that famous cat who wrote his own autobiography. Black Magic has a great many opinions, and despite his natural feline arrogance, he seems to be genuinely spiritual. But the reader can decide for him/herself.

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