Clint warming himself by the kerosene heater with Shodan while waiting on Ford.
Ford is the kitten one of our rescued Persian cats stole from a neighbor's cat's litter. Kali, the Persian, could not have kittens due to very poor health, so she found a way to get herself one. Only, she couldn't feed it, so she dumped it in my closet where it made noises for a couple of days before we finally found it. Ford was fostered by our cat, Miracle, who has her own amazing story.
Ford does not like it when Brandon leaves and will misbehave in a heartbeat.
Every. single. time.
I wanted to document at least one of his temper tantrums.
Every. single. time.
I wanted to document at least one of his temper tantrums.
Of course, Ford would pick the coldest night of the year to rocket through our legs into the night! 16 degrees with 25 mph wind. Ugh! We knew he could end up with frostbitten ears or die of hypothermia, so we determined to wait him out. For six hours that evening, the feisty feline refused to come inside. Oh, he'd venture to the door and let us see him...and as soon as we made eye contact or said his name, he let us know just how angry he was by taking off again.
We begged, pleaded, fussed at, used scents of his favorite foods, cooked people food he likes, ordered pizza (he knows the pizza guy and likes pizza), had Emily and Hannah come over to help coax him in, left him alone, left the door open, shut the door, used recorded cat meows, etc. What a doodle that cat can be!
Clint and I eventually figured out that the best way to get him inside was to leave. We left Brandon's front door open the width of a shoe. Clint and I put some tracts out and went back to check after half an hour. No Ford. Another half an hour...Ford was inside warming himself by the heater. He was not a happy camper, but we had all of that furry attitude contained within four walls again. Then we set Brandon's faucets to drip and went home and crawled to bed.
Brandon was upset that Ford did that to us while we were there to look after his home. I told Brandon, "There are no perfect parents, no perfect children, no perfect grandchildren, and no perfect furry grands. He's OK. He's letting us know the only way he can that he is upset you are gone which is a sign he is smart enough to communicate that to us. I will wait him out. I have plenty of patience from raising seven strong-willed children!"
