Hoover The Rescue Cat
Marion in Savannah, a faithful reader and commenter on this blog has often mentioned "Hoover the Cat" (picture below). I asked her how she got Hoover. Or, perhaps, more correctly, how Hoover got her. With her usual excellent command of all things kitteh, she replied.
Here is Hoover on day 1, sleeping off the anesthetic after the visit to the vet.
This is the story Marion in Savannah told me:
---Ah, where Hoover came from... I was sitting out in the garden last summer and a scrawny, SCRAWNY little gray kitten peeked around the corner of the house. I made welcoming noises and he came over to me. He was about 8 months old (best guess the vet and I could come up with), and had a ratty old flea collar on, so he must have been someone's kitteh at some point.
(It's a scandal here. There are 3 colleges in town and the college kids have an appalling habit of abandoning pets when they leave for the summer, so that may be where he came from.)
He came over, shed a few fleas to say hello, and turned on his motor. He's got a VERY loud purr... He was nothing but skin and bones, so I went and got him some food.
When I fed him he made a noise I've never, ever heard a cat make before, which I can't even describe for you. The best analogy I can come up with is if you had been crawling through the desert in the baking sun for days without food and water and someone found you, put an umbrella over you, and gave you a cool glass of water and your favorite food THAT'S the sound you would make.
Bringing him inside was a bit of a challenge because of Victoria, the Siamese. She's Empress Of All The Known (And Unknown) Galaxies and had very strong feelings about the matter.
Hoover moved into my bedroom/office/bath area with his own litter box, food and water and he and Victoria discussed the issue through the door. This was in July/August, and they've FINALLY gotten to the point where they can share a bed without slapping at each other. (I think it helps that Hoover now outweighs Victoria...!)----
Well, what can I say except that Marion in Savannah has a way with words, and a way with cats!
UPDATE- Mr. "Marion in Savannah" adds greatly to the story in the comments- LOL- Hoover, the "Peter Pan Cat"-- perpetual kitty...
Here is Hoover on day 1, sleeping off the anesthetic after the visit to the vet.
This is the story Marion in Savannah told me:
---Ah, where Hoover came from... I was sitting out in the garden last summer and a scrawny, SCRAWNY little gray kitten peeked around the corner of the house. I made welcoming noises and he came over to me. He was about 8 months old (best guess the vet and I could come up with), and had a ratty old flea collar on, so he must have been someone's kitteh at some point.
(It's a scandal here. There are 3 colleges in town and the college kids have an appalling habit of abandoning pets when they leave for the summer, so that may be where he came from.)
He came over, shed a few fleas to say hello, and turned on his motor. He's got a VERY loud purr... He was nothing but skin and bones, so I went and got him some food.
When I fed him he made a noise I've never, ever heard a cat make before, which I can't even describe for you. The best analogy I can come up with is if you had been crawling through the desert in the baking sun for days without food and water and someone found you, put an umbrella over you, and gave you a cool glass of water and your favorite food THAT'S the sound you would make.
Bringing him inside was a bit of a challenge because of Victoria, the Siamese. She's Empress Of All The Known (And Unknown) Galaxies and had very strong feelings about the matter.
Hoover moved into my bedroom/office/bath area with his own litter box, food and water and he and Victoria discussed the issue through the door. This was in July/August, and they've FINALLY gotten to the point where they can share a bed without slapping at each other. (I think it helps that Hoover now outweighs Victoria...!)----
Well, what can I say except that Marion in Savannah has a way with words, and a way with cats!
UPDATE- Mr. "Marion in Savannah" adds greatly to the story in the comments- LOL- Hoover, the "Peter Pan Cat"-- perpetual kitty...
And, btw way Marion, I am so looking forward to any more cat tales you have to share.
ReplyDeleteI still laugh remembering your comments- one in particular comes to mind, tho it is not related to this post- about how you now cut through the bag handles before letting a kitty play with the bags, because you had the experience of trying to keep up with a cat who had put his head into the handle of a bag, and was running around with the bag tied to his neck, with the rest of the bag flapping behind.
Oh, am I making this up?.... ;)
No, you're not making up the shopping bag chase! Thanks for turning Hoover into a star — he'll be bragging for weeks, I'm sure.
ReplyDeleteI am Peter, better known as Mr. Marion in Savannah.
ReplyDeleteI am afraid that Marion did not tell you the whole story about Hoover. It has become obvious after almost 9 months of service to the kitty that he was influenced early in life by the story of Peter Pan. And like that fictional character he has decided that he will go directly from his first kittenhood to his second without passing through the adult stage.
This is not to say that he doesn’t have a serious side. He is most helpful. If you are working at the computer he will help you type and even point out what you are doing wrong. If your desk or kitchen counter has become cluttered, he will help by shoving extraneous objects onto the floor and out of the way. (Marion feels that this is part of an advanced Physics Course in the effects of gravity). He also spends considerable time trying to solve the Doorknob Problem.
In short, where ever you do not want a pussy cat there is Hoover looking innocent. If he was not one of the most endearing felines that we have ever catered to, he would by now have become a gray, furry, bathroom mat.
Hi Peter- thanks for dropping by.
ReplyDeleteI see.
Marion has mentioned Hoover's efforts to solve the doorknob problem, but not his general helpfulness, nor his study of falling objects.
He's got you under this thumb, so to say!