Squeaky the Cat

When I was in college I volunteered for a student run experiment that tested and showed how our senses of smell can trigger memories.  In my freshman year, some upper class girls had me smelling perfume and cologne samples while they simultaneously showed me pictures or words.  In round two of these tests, the visual cues disappeared and the young women asked me what I could recall with each scent card.  I remember they were excitedly impressed with the results I helped them compile with each of my correct answers.  I wasn't 100% accurate, but I think I did pretty well and was amazed at how memory is impacted by smell.

Fast forward to 2013.  I'm at home this weekend painting the front door when I start thinking about my old cat Squeaky.  Although he's still alive and well cared for, we've been separated for close to a decade and it was strange.  It took a while to make the connection.


Squeaky loved playing with the lizards he'd spot on the job  site. 
However, the lizards weren't in to it like he was.  This one day, he ripped off
a lizard's tail.  (When this happens, it's like with a snake and the tail still has 
life and moves.)  Squeaky wasn't sure whether he should play with the
moving tail or the lizard who was trying to escape to safety, so he took
them both on and kept bouncing back and forth until the tail stopped.

Squeaky was given to me by a neighbor back in the spring of 2002.  He'd been rescued from some desserted country road and this kind-hearted neighbor decided that I needed a pet.  Squeaky was weak and was given his name by his rescuer because the pitiful sound that came out of his mouth was more like a squeak than a meow.  We didn't think he had much of a chance.  The Fire House was complete and I was busy getting the next project ready for move-in.  The puny kitten was not going to derail my daily routine so I said, "Sure, I'll take him."  Saving houses, saving strays.  I was up for the challenge. 

Squeaky perked up quickly.  He happily lapped up the milk I set out for him and a week or so later he was crunching on cat food like a pro.  At first, The Fire House seemed a little too big for him and he slept with me.  He grew healthy and strong, but didn't fall out of the habit of curling up with me each night.  His routine was consistent, unique, and undetered. He'd hop up onto the head of the bed and wake me with the pat of his paw on my cheek.  If I didn't lift up the covers, he gently scratch my face until I did.  Once he was under the sheets, he'd cozy up to me in a little ball and when he had enough comfort/warmth he'd crawl out in the middle of night and sleep on his own until morning.  This was our drill at The Fire House and this kept on after he moved with me to The Cottage... until I went away for a weekend without him.  I took Frosty, my dog, but left Squeaky (who was more mature and independent) alone to keep an eye on The Cottage.  I guess I should have sat him down for a talk.  He was not happy and that little booger peed on me in the bed two nights in a row while I was sleeping.  Squeaky immediately became an outside cat.  We were still friends, but never slept together again.  Eventually he charmed my neighbor Charlotte and she's been spoiling him ever since. 



Squeaky hanging out with Frosty.  These two were best freinds and
Squeaky would also curl up in a ball on top her when she slept.

Back to April 2013.  I'm painting the door Sunday and being flooded with thoughts of my old buddy Squeaky the Cat.  I'm wondering why until I figure it out: my drop clothe for painting.  I placed it inside the doorway to protect the wood floors.  Squeaky used it for a litter box too.  It's splattered with paint, but I've never felt a need to wash it.  It smells like Squeaky and I don't mind.  He was a good cat. 

He got P.O.'d and I got peed on, but it's all good.  Thinking of you Squeaky.  

Step 6: Secure the Property

After I take ownership, I'm mindful of the need to make the house and any outbuildings secure. Adventurous kids and hormonal adolescents are no longer free to enter. Plus, I’d prefer that curious folks from the neighborhood only see the inside when I’m around to lead the tour.

Step 5 is when I install my own locks and make sure that doors shut completely. I also board up any broken windows and brace them so they can’t be pushed open easily from outside. It’s similar with any sliding exterior doors. It doesn’t take much to beef things up with a board, broom handle, or something else substantial to keep folks out.

Besides people, I want to keep animals from coming inside as well. I’ll admit that it’s hard to keep snakes out, and I don’t mind having the tiny lizards on site. At this stage, I’m most concerned with bigger animals: stray cats, racoons, and possums. I've had more than a few animals wander thru, seeming just as curious as the people in the neighborhood, and I don’t want four-legged critters entering if I can keep them out.

I realize that animals are clever and smart. They seem to know and remember where they can go to rest and get a break from harsh weather. We’d likely be the same if we lived in the wild. Once, I disregarded one opening because I thought it was insignificant: the hole for the dryer vent. Somewhere near midnight, a baby bobcat came in, and it didn’t want to leave. Looking back, the fury little thing was probably just lost and sacred. I was tired and had to go to work in a few hours, so I went back to bed and let this cat make itself at hme—at eighteen hundred square feet, there was plenty of room for both of us. However, the animal quickly curled up in a ball at the foot of my bed until morning. At daylight, while I was waiting for my first cup of coffee to brew, it came out to look around. I opened the front door, and it went on its way, likely to the woods at the end of the block. Since this was back in 2000, I didn’t have a cell phone to document this special visit, and official ID from a wildlife professional was not exactly an option. It was a husky cat with a stubby tail, and I still to this day think it was a Carolina bobcat. Although I especially enjoyed the late-night visit from that critter, there were other animals that I knew I needed to keep out, so I sealed up the hole before dark.

Make your new project house secure and seal up all the openings, including the ones that you may write off as insignificant.

My late-night visitor looked like this fur ball.

Jump to Step 7 - Pull Out the Valuables