The Worst Wednesday Of Ron’s Life

He was probably born in the woods. I’m sure it was a beautiful Spring day – neon sprouts making their way through the freshly cleaned lawns. The tips of the Maples turning more burgundy with every passing moment. I’m sure it was touch and go for a while there – some wondering what was about to happen. I’m sure she was scared and I’m also sure she wished she hadn’t been born herself, but the moment she saw little Ron Voleman’s face, she knew why she was put here on Earth. To care for and nurture the cutest little cat she ever did see.

We brought our orange cat back from the vet this afternoon. He’s out in the garage right now, semi-frantically pacing around, trying to figure out why his usual route to the free world has been blocked. All he knows is that yesterday he was going for a sweet stroll in the burning sunlight to visit some old friends, clubbed over the head, stuffed in a sack and neutered. When he woke up, he was in a cage, then let out of a cage, only to be trapped in a house. Needless to say, there’s a bit of panicked curiosity on his part.

I do feel bad. If there’s one thing this cat has always been very careful about, it was to never get trapped anywhere. We’d watch him sleeping in the garage and I swear he had one eye open. When we’d bring him inside to play with us, he’d always focus on the doors. He’d trot into the living room to roll around for a few minutes and chase a cat toy, but would get up and scurry straight toward the exit if he heard a noise he deemed too loud. When it came to me, he did something similar – he would book to the nearest way out. I still can’t figure out if he wanted me to chase him in some strange game or if he really didn’t like me. It may be because early on, I started groping his paws. I have the weirdest thing about cat paws. They are so soft and cute. I know, too much information.

He’s coming around though. Ever since he’s been in the house without a way out, he’s warmed up to me considerably. Just a few minutes ago, before we let him into the garage, I was laying on my back on the kitchen floor. He jumped up on my chest and began purring. I would slide my hand down in back, from his head to his tail and he would just purr louder. This Ron, he’s got a strong purr.

Laura’s somewhat nervous that he’s not going to flip – that he’s not going to “domesticate.” I try to tell her that every day will get better and better, until one day he’ll be a happy fat orange cat, just like all the rest. Only when he’s fat and happy, stretched out long on a warm couch, there’ll be little risk of him getting hit by a car or beat up by a raccoon. We’ll know where he is – safe and sound somewhere nearby. Acting like an orange cat should act.

By the way – he’s healthy. We were nervous about all the disease cats can get when they’re stray, but he came back clean. We did all the tests and he got all the shots. I’m not sure he knows enough to thank us yet, but when the day comes and he’s curled up on my lap as I’m writing on my blog, I’m sure the connection will be made.

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In other news, I’d like to say that I’m really enjoying being back in the scene. A few years ago, and I’m sort of ashamed to say this, I had mentioned to someone that I felt like I was living one big blog post. I used to have so much fun putting stories together and I swear, if you had a conversation with me, you’d see the wheels turning behind my eyes as I was plotting and planning how to turn what we were doing into something that someone would want to read. It may have evolved into an illness – I can’t be sure.

I don’t know when it exactly happened, but there came a time when I lost my enthusiasm for writing things down like I’m doing here. Perhaps I had nothing left to write. Perhaps I had said it all. Perhaps I just needed to let my batteries recharge. Whatever it was, and we’ll call it a funk, it seems to have passed because I can sense things turning around. My smile has returned and every time I look out the window or go for a walk, my imagination tingles. I feel like I used to feel and that’s a good thing. I’ve got years to make up for.

Alright – off to dinner. It’s late enough and I’m getting hungry. Jiu-Jitsu practice wore me out tonight. Chris and I are still training for his competition on Saturday, which I’m planning on getting lots of video and photos of. I’ll direct you toward them when that’s all finished.