Cat Swimming 101

Yesterday morning Cheddar took a dip in the pool.

But let me back-track to set the scene.

Cheddar used to be a pain in the butt. He was a night owl. Sleeping all day and only a small portion of the night, he meowed incessantly to wake us. He was hungry. Easy fix, you’d think. Just leave a bowl of dry food at his disposal. But, that was a no-no.

Before Stop-n-Go died, the Vet put him on a special diet with prescription food for kidney function. Cheddar wasn’t supposed to eat it, but anyone who’s had multiple pets knows it’s impossible to prevent one from eating the other’s food, so they both ate the same thing. Apparently Science Diet KD is rather rich in nutrients. Cheddar had to “loosen his kitty belt.”

Weighing in at a whopping 21 pounds, we had the almighty Cheddar struggling valiantly to extricate himself from the scale and the vet tech.

“You have to put Cheddar on a diet. He weighs entirely too much. It’s unhealthy!” Dr. Taylor scolded.

Alrighty then…..far be it for me to contribute to his detrimental lifestyle.

Cheddar came home with measured portions and Science Diet WD, aka diet food. THAT’S when the waking us up in the middle of the night started. Cheddar thought he was starving!

Around 3:00 – 4:00 a.m. (I assume that was his previous grazing hour) Cheddar commenced to meow. When mewling had little effect, he launched a more aggressive attack. He learned to bang kitchen cabinets. That’s right. He put his paw in the door, pulled just hard enough to open it then let it bang shut. He continued in this fashion until Mike stormed out of bed in raging defeat to put him outside.

Nightlife actually kept Cheddar occupied for a brief time. Then around 5:00 a.m. he appeared on the bedroom window sill next to Mike’s head, slapping his tail against the screen and of course, meowing. There again, Mike could only take so much before he charged out of bed to let the cat in and give him a morsel.

It was bad. This went on night after night, month after agonizing month for well over a year! There was no place to secure Cheddar that his mournful meows, slaps and bangs wouldn’t penetrate.

Relief arrived in the form of Amanda and a New Year’s vacation. She stayed at the house while we visited Mike’s parents. Cheddar never woke her once. He slept peacefully all night every night.

I knew it could be done. The timing was perfect. He’d done without for a whole week. I just had to convince Mike to remain put.

“Think of Cheddar as a baby. He’s accustomed to us responding to his every whim. If we want him to sleep through the night, we have to quit giving him a bottle. Ignore him, no matter what. He’ll stop when he doesn’t get his way.”

And that’s when it stopped as quickly as it began. Our first night home Mike remained still during the cabinet-banging. Cheddar slammed only twice before returning to sleep at the foot of our bed.

He hasn’t been obnoxious or annoying in the middle of the night in a long time. So, when he stirred at 4:44 this morning, I hardly noticed.

“Meow, meow.”

Nuzzling beside me, giving my paw a few licks, I thought he just wanted to snuggle. Alas, no. He had more devious plans. He banged a cabinet!

Without thinking I leapt out of bed, tossing a pillow in his general direction. When I heard scurrying paws, I felt bad, so I decided to let him out.

“Uh, I thought we weren’t getting up anymore. He’ll get back in the pattern.”

Touché Mike. He’s absolutely correct. I pulled a no-no, plus I'd said exactly the same thing to him the week before, and he couldn't miss the opportunity to reciprocate.

The sound of the alarm woke me. I lay in bed outlining my morning activities.

“Merrrrowwwww” bellowed at the kitchen window. Even though it was open, the sound was too loud, too urgent. That wasn’t his normal, soft I’m-home-let-me-in mew.

“Chewwie,” I answered climbing out of bed.

Merrrrowwwww!

As Cheddar came through the front door, he brushed against me. It was ice cold. My cognitive skills translated “cold” into “wet.” Even without my glasses I could squint well enough to tell it hadn’t rained. That much water would have been Ike all over again.

Turning on the light, I discovered a completely soaked cat! It was like I’d bathed him! He literally dripped.

I didn’t know what to think, but Mike’s initial response was the pool. I couldn’t imagine that. Cheddar is scared of the water. I know he wasn't leaning over the edge trying to get a drink. I can’t even get him to come near enough to pet when I’m in the water.

Upon surveying the scene, Cheddar apparently took the plunge by the jump rock and tried to get out as evidenced by major splash marks on the sidewalk. There were splashes for approximately 6 feet along edge of the pool where he finally found success by the Jacuzzi. The wet tracks led through the trellis and over the fence which was also soaked. Poor Cheddar must have shot like a bullet when he came out of that burr cold water.

Amanda blamed it on the ghost of Stop-n-Go. "He materialized, said Boo, and it scared Cheddar so bad he fell in." While I LOVE this version, it’s fairly obvious something alive chased him into the pool. We’re guessing one of the mean birds who inhabit the back yard trees might have launched an attacked forcing our poor kitty off balance. Who knows…..but I’ll bet Cheddar’s eyes were as big as saucers when he hit the water.

Toweling him dry I could feel his little heart pounding. He doesn’t look nearly so large when he’s wet.

Since this story had a happy ending, I can laugh. Believe me I do every time I think of Cheddar’s swimming debut. It’s scary, though, because this event could have had a much different outcome. Ironically, Stop-no-Go died April 14th two years ago. Cheddars dip in the pool was on April 13th.

I'm sure he won't soon forget this escapade. I know we won't.

I'm so glad Cheddar aced Cat Swimming 101.