Sir Clem-Ka-Diddle-Hopper

Hey, it’s me – Sir Clem-Ka-Diddle-Hopper. You knew you would be hearing from me sooner or later because I have been scoping out the Kitty Club Med location and I have rights too. For now though, no one else is staking out this freezing garage with the leaking roof so I have put in my claim for squatters privileges. I am fully aware  and well versed in property  management law 101. It is up to owner to evict a squatter who does not have a signed agreement in place and does not pay rent – with what, I ask you? Knowing that liberal leaning Two Footed Momma,  it is not too likely she would take me to Kitty kangaroo Court.

Let’s start by telling you about my coloring. I am a sleek grey/white/ black/ginger/red glinting highlights (in the sun) cat with black pinstripes interwoven and scalloped throughout my thick coat. I have  a full bushy tail ringed in grey, black and white flecks with a black vertical line running from the tip to the base of my tail and up my back. I appear to wear a white bib, that travels from my belly to my jaw with creamy white paws and mouth.

It started late last fall, me, following the Kitty Club Med from the Cat Colony  to their home.  My buddies from the Colony would follow me, a tungsten  grey and white cat,  Seven and 24601,  my Baby Daddy, (named after the Les Miz prisoner), a once handsome long-haired grey striped tabby . Now he has chewed up ears, gashes out of neck, big wads of fur missing,  and drags himself around on three paws. Also a pretty, dainty grey and white neighbor’s cat who had a home but loved the night life, would also join in the parade.

Fall turned to winter, rain to snow, to a massive ice storm, back to an Arctic Vortex, then more snow on snow.

I do not have the words to explain the depth of the cold endured, as the temperature plummeted and stubbornly stayed below all past norms. The Kitty Club Med disappeared into the very bowels of their home, sometimes venturing out if the sun was out and the temperature hit zero or above while I shivered and sheltered to avoid death by exposure to the elements.  It was time for me to put a Survivor’s Plan in place.

I looked around at my environment.  I noticed that Momma parked her car in the garage.  In the warm weather the Indoor/Outdoor Cats jumped on  the hood of the car (I could do that), then scrambled on to the roof and hoisted themselves up to boards that ran along the ceiling of the garage, where they settled down, twisting their necks in order to spy on the neighbor hood. (I could do all of that). What I would not do was encourage Seven and 24601 to join me – in fact I would run them back to the Colony as I ran the neighbor cat home.Unfortunately we learn at our Baby Mama’s breast, it is a dog-eat-dog world in a Cat Colony.….so I am short on the Golden Rule of  ‘doing on to others what you would have them do to you.’

I have got to start practicing that if I want to live at the Kitty Club Med where I notice how they are polite to each other, no hissing, no snarling, no biting, no scratching allowed.  It seems I have a lot to learn.