When He is Asleep
Grover the cat came over for a visit. My sister was visiting a friend in Canada. She dropped him off suddenly because no one else was available to take care of him at the last minute. My sister was going to be out of the country for a little more than two months so I was going to get to know him quite well.
This all took place at the tail end of a pandemic. While we all took precautions and feared getting the COVID virus, many were very stressed. I never really was. I never had any anxiety until Grover came to live with me. He was my virus.
The minute he came over he was okay but that was because he was unfamiliar with his new surroundings. Shortly after, I sent my sister a picture of Grover sleeping on the floor. She mentioned that is when he was his cutest, when he was asleep. I would find out how true that would be just a few weeks after he arrived.
It would be hard to sleep. Difficult when you turn over in your bed and notice that he is lying partially on the pillow looking at you, only inches away from your face, while purring loudly. Or when he would come upstairs, sit in the bedroom doorway and then meow loudly. My sister told me that many times she would throw a pillow at him and he would come back a few minutes later meowing softly. Of course, this all occurred in the morning, 5AM, 4AM, and even earlier. A few times he would even walk around on the bed purring, while trying to give me love bites on my arms. I always tried to cover myself with the blankets and he would try to push himself underneath them. Once I covered myself completely with the blankets and he still tried to bite me as I felt his teeth on my forehead.
I desperately followed him around because of his occasional vomit and his other business. I even bought a carpet cleaner that greatly reduced my stress. I put newspaper in critical points where he vomited earlier, hoping that he would go on the paper next time or I hoped that I would catch him in the act so I could avoid him going on the carpet. No, it never worked. Never caught him, just stepped in it the next morning. Once I got up and noticed the fur ball vomit on the carpet next to the newspaper. Where was Grover? He was curled up sleeping on the newspaper.
He could be annoying in little ways. He would always sleep on one side of the couch since he knew where I always sat. I had to put an old winter coat on that side of the couch because of his sharp nails and because of his shedding. A few times I would get up for only a moment, only to return to the couch to find him sleeping on my side.
Then, when it came to doing his business, he started going in the basement instead of the litter box, that was located in the small bathroom on the main floor. At first, I kept all of the doors open so he had access to the basement and the upstairs bedrooms. I had to stop that. It was funny to watch him when he had to go. The basement door was on his left while the small bathroom was on his right. He went left and then turned around when he realized that the basement door was closed.
A Montage of Different Mornings When Grover Wanted His Food
He Can Still Learn
Grover is over 15 years old and what I found is that you can teach an old cat new tricks. He would never bury it when he went in the litter box. My sister said he never did. I live in a well insulated condominium and so, I would even smell it upstairs when he went. Quickly, after turning on the ceiling fans, I would cover it in litter with the scoop. I would then have to wait ten or fifteen until I could scoop it out to throw it away. Grover must have watched me doing this a few times. Soon after, I heard him digging, moving a whole side of the litter from one end to the other as he tried to cover it. Most of the time he missed. A few times he succeeded.
Grover Goes Home
After a little more than two months he went home. He meowed constantly in his carrier when I drove. When I got back home, it was quiet and peaceful in a lonely way. Yes, I did miss him but I also didn’t miss him. I remember how he rarely ever played with his toys. Instead he was fascinated with wooden sticks and plastic envelope tops. Since then, after being back home for sometime, my sister has said that he is outside a lot but she has noticed that he is losing his hearing. He is getting old. Occasionally I see him when I visit. He remembers.
I remember years ago when he chased sticks in the yard and rolled around in the leaves. Hopefully he will be able to play outside for a few more years to come and also, to continue to annoy my sister every morning.