Oaky belongs to our landlords. He is a soft grey tabby-dilute-calico lookin’ boy.
Oaky has a hobby. His hobby is bein’ a badass. He goes strutting around his territory looking for any other animal bold and foolish enough to tread upon his turf. He’s scrappy. He has a scar down the top of his nose to prove it. He is eight pounds of lithe, wiry muscle. He is used to winning.
Oaky is the reason that my cats, Sunshine & Leo, don’t wander very far beyond an open door. Oaky has cornered both of them on the deck and held them in hissing, spitting, wailing submission. Bein’ a badass is Oaky’s favourite form of entertainment.
When there are no foolish creatures that need to be run off his turf, Oaky creates entertainment. He looks through our living room window.
He stares. He taunts. He just dares one of the inside critters to make eye contact. He rubs his face against the glass, and paces back and forth. He claws at the window frame. One of my four animals *always* takes the bait.
It’s usually Sunshine. Like any high Diva queen, she enjoys drama. She rushes at the window yowling her indignation! She screeches and spits and bats at the glass. Oaky throws his shoulders into the glass, which I’ve deduced is the cat equivalent of “Bring it!” He claws at the glass like a jack russell after a groundhog. Any clutter we’ve inadvertently left on the windowsill goes crashing to the floor! The dogs spring into action – they howl and bark and rush around! And when all is chaos, Oaky arches his back, flattens his ears, gives a satisfied snort and trots away. Mission Accomplished.
We know there are other cats around. When Oaky is inside, these other cats come to visit our living room window. Sweet kitties with housecat tummies who meow prettily and make elaborate displays of their friendliness. I wish they’d visit more often, but it’s obvious they’ve all crossed paths with Oaky the Ogre.
A few times in the night we’ve been jerked from sleep by the high pitched screeching of our cats talking smack through the cat-spit encrusted living room window. I’ve gradually managed to calm our critters down and desensitize them to Oaky’s pert little face peering in at us.
I took the above picture because I was so proud of our progress. I dared to imagine our animals coexisting peacefully by Spring. Lately, even Bonus has been ignoring Oaky. Obviously, Oaky’s fun has been significantly diminished. It’s not entertaining if he can’t get the apartment stirred up a bit. He had to crank it up a notch.
At six o’clock this morning, I was ripped awake by the panicked screaming of cats, followed immediately by a stampede of wildly flying paws-with-claws that tore across the bed, ripped a pillow from under my head, shredded the down quilt, tore up the stairs and back down again, launched the big dog in chase and set off the small dog howling and shaking his crate in fury!
I stumbled out of bed, stepped in a puddle of spilled water, staggered to the bathroom and flipped on the light.
There was Oaky. Inside. How the hell did he get inside? He had Leo, my gentleman cat, backed into a corner, snarling in outrage. Oaky, having sufficiently stirred the apartment and accomplished a new height of chaos, turned into a sweet and charming boy and allowed me to pick him up and carry him outside. I brought him to the back door which I noticed had been pushed open just enough to allow an eight pound package of trouble to pass. Oaky knows how to open our door.
We’ll probably be the only people in Ukee who lock their door to keep a cat out! There is no way I’ll be able to get the animals to ignore Oaky the next time he visits our living room window. Oaky has ensured his entertainment for months to come.