Grandpa

It was still dark when I ventured outside. A damp chill was my companion as I walked to the barn. I opened the door, stepped inside, and flipped the light switch. A quick scan did not reveal anything lurking in the cavernous barn. All was quiet. And scary. Yes, I admit it. Going into a dark barn alone makes me nervous. I hurried to the feed bin, an area of better lighting.

Our cats are relatively quiet and wait in the shadows until they hear the scrape of the can as it is filled with food. Just as I relaxed a bit, I heard it. The voice I heard was abrasive. Loudly raspy. And of extreme demand. I knew it was not one of our cats. This one was unknown to me. I turned around and waited. A pitiful black and white skinny bag of bones hobbled into the light. I dropped the food into the pans and watched.

Our fifteen or so cats swarmed the pans as usual. Settled into their positions, an occasional growl was added to the crunching of food as it was pulverized by the four hundred plus teeth. The newcomer tightly crouched at a safe distance and watched with woeful eyes. I scooped up more food and slowly walked towards it. It backed into the safety of darkness under a workbench. I gently dropped the food, offered a few kind words, and turned around to leave the barn. That routine continued until Grandpa became part of our crowd.

I think Grandpa has been with us for over a year. Maybe two. No amount or type of food has put much weight on the old boy. Until recently, I thought he had only one tooth. I was happy to discover he has quite a few. He is not the least bit attractive – he is quite ugly. I do not know his life story, but I am certain the ancient creature was a handsome guy in his prime. His behavior indicates he may have been a pet. I wonder if he missed. Or was he simply dumped and forgotten? Again, I do not know his story. Fortunately for him – and all others who come and go here – stories are not required to receive kind hospitality.

For the longest time, he would scoot away when I approached him, so I gave up on any contact. Yesterday, as I sat down to pull off my boots, he came to me and placed a paw on my leg. That was a first! I leaned back to see what would happen. With agility that I did not know he possessed, Grandpa lifted himself into my lap. I scratched his ears and belly, rubbed his bony back. Honestly, it was kind of gross as my hand ran over the greasy coat. I could feel every bump and knob of his old man skeleton. The entire time he purred like a perfectly tuned engine. I feel so sorry for him. It is a cruel world when one is unwanted and struggling. I was happy to give him a few moments of blissful comfort.
Grandpa owns me.

–Kathy