This Saturday I walked outside and I heard the glorious song of a bird singing away in some tree near my house. Immediately, my brain connected that to the promise that Spring was for sure on it’s way. As I mentioned in previous posts, I live in London, Ontario, a medium-sized city approximately 200km West of Toronto (Drake’s hometown, or as he calls it, the six). Those of us who live in London know about the bi-polar nature of our weather, being that we’re located right in the middle of a snow belt, sometimes it’s mild winter days, but more often than not, it is cold as heck, and very prone to snow storms. So as you can imagine, this being the coldest February in almost 20 years (or so I heard on the radio), Londoners are more than rejoiced at the thought that Spring is almost here.
Having said that, another thing about the change of seasons really excites me, and this is where the crazy cat lady side comes out. The return of the Spring also means the return of my beloved cat Sancho who I sent away to live with my parents during this particularly cold and brutal winter. The reason behind that is that Sancho is an outdoor cat. Always has been. In fact, I adopted him from a dog rescue farm, where months prior, his pregnant mother had been dropped off without a note or reason. The dog rescue administrator was beside herself, as she was already caring for another pregnant stray cat, but because of her compassionate nature, did what she did best, and cared for these vulnerable creatures.
As such, Sancho (named after Sancho Panza, from Don Quijote de la Mancha, but everyone calls him Sanchez) was born and socialized for his first months of existence among dogs. It’s funny because no one believes me that when I took him home, he didn’t even meow, he croaked, almost like he was trying to let out a bark. Eventually, nature took over and he learned to meow, however, he maintained a heart of a dog (he is extremely friendly, and intuitive), as well as a fondness for the outdoors.
For a while, I didn’t let him out, and only did if I walked him on a leash, but being a cat, he didn’t like that, so he would defy me and stay put. Then if ever given even a glimmer of freedom, he ran as fast as he could, and much to my frustration, returned only when bribed with cat nip (yes he is a nip user, don’t judge him).
As such, he was not very happy when I moved into a small home, and would always run away whenever the door was opened. Eventually he would come home, but he would decide when and how he did.
My neighbours tell me that when Sancho wants in, he starts jumping and knocking on the window of my front door with his paws. Some have even tried to video record it, but have been unsuccessful in catching him before I open the door. He really is a character… Anyway, the point is, Sancho is an outdoor cat, and no matter how much I’ve tried to keep him at home, he always manages to get away.
Having said that, last winter was especially brutal for Sancho, because of my work schedule, if he escaped in the morning and I failed to trap him and bring him back indoors, he would end up waiting outside in the cold until I got home. It was difficult for me too, as I have very little room to chase him in the mornings before I need to be at work. For this and other reasons, I decided the most humane thing was to send Sancho to my parents’ home in a smaller city 100km away from my own home, where he would have much more room to run around indoors, eat, and hibernate to his heart’s content.
Now, if anyone has been paying attention to my earlier posts regarding my recent relationship breakdown (see “Life After Love” and “Stronger” if you really want to know), you might imagine how badly I would need my little Sancho who brings not only joy and comfort, but special company to my home.
Needless to say, I wanted to dedicate this weekend post to that special little furry friend of mine, because, guess what buddy? You’re coming home soon! 🙂
Happy Saturday, and please enjoy the cat humour below.
XO
A.C.
A. Citlalli 