My cousin, Craig Parsons, is a super creative graphic designer. And sometimes, if you are lucky, he becomes inspired to create something based on one of your experiences. Such was the case with this image when he heard I had taken in a cat, that I didn't want and didn't like.
(He also suggested that I should write a children's book based on the premise of a cat coming into a house, uninvited, and wreaking havoc. Craig doesn't have children so he didn't realize that his idea for Cat in the Hat was a couple of decades too late. However, he provided the image so I decided if not a book, the least I could provide was a post... )
His name is Neil. If I had known that he would move in (uninvited) I probably would have come up with a more unique/ interesting name for him; like Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, or Mephistopheles. Yet I didn't, and for some God forsaken reason I was singing "Sweet Caroline" that morning so Neil he became.
I live in the country and across the road from me lives a man that collects barn cats. Barn cats that must have been extremely bad in a previous life in order to end up in this particular barn. It is the rare cat that I see more than once or twice, their eyes peeking over tall grasses, or dashing across the busy road. Coyotes, bobcats, and their ilk make quick work of these cats usually. The felines that the predators don't pick off are hit by speeding cars or become ill from infections from fighting. For years I have attempted to sweet talk these death row cats and beg them to stay on my property, for their benefit. Alas, I have never had a taker... until Neil.
With that said, though, Neil wasn't actually invited. I never put forth the effort that I put into the other barn cats; I didn't crawl on the ground for hours begging him to let me pet him. I didn't pick his injured body off of the road, after it had been hit by a car, and attempt to help his survival... No, one day, I was outside feeding my cats and he was just there. Eating.
Neil isn't a nice cat. For instance, the other day, he ripped a whole piece of pizza out of my 9 year old son's hands, in the process leaving my son punctured and bleeding. Also, even though Neil will meow at you incessantly to be pet, here is an actual chart of where you are allowed to touch him:
Since that first day, Neil wouldn't go away. He was always just here (uninvited). Laying on my porch, climbing into my car, hanging out in the backyard with my SEVEN dogs. Me, the first month- Neil is not my cat. I will feed him but I will not spend any additional money on him. Me, the second month-Neil is not my cat. I will feed him and neuter him but he is never coming in the house. Me, the third month- Neil is not my cat. I will feed and neuter him but he can only come in the house briefly while being watched. Me, the fourth month- Neil is not my cat. He can come in the house during the day but I don't want him in at night. Me, the fifth month- NOT my cat. He can stay in at night but he can't come into my bedroom or be on my bed. Neil, the sixth month- I will occupy 2/3rds of the bed and wake her up all night while grooming myself both vocally and vigorously.
I imagine Neil has been living here for about a year now (uninvited). He has no real redeeming qualities. I saw him attempt to catch a rat once but the effort was confined to a pounce and after that he couldn't be bothered. He leaves large clumps of fur like a Family Circus map throughout my house. One of his favorite spots to lay is on the rug in front of the kitchen sink, but only when we are trying to cook or wash dishes. When you aren't paying attention to him he likes to walk up to you, stretch, and dig his claws into you like you're a scratching post. The dogs are all terrified of him and MY actual cats are becoming thin because he inhales all of their food on top of his own mandatory 3 cups a day.
He is NOT my Neil. However, somehow we have become his people (Stockholm victims). In order to not feel injudicious about the relationship he has forcefully forged with us I exist in the fantasy that if my house were to ever catch on fire that this is the animal that would wake us up and save all of our lives. If I were to be truly honest with myself though, my bets are on him looting whatever food he can make off with as he heads down the road to the next suckers house (uninvited).