We don’t live in a neighborhood; we live on a farm, in the country. Dusty, our “barn” cat used to be a city dweller. He was our son’s first college pet when he lived in Wrigleyville, Chicago. Dusty came to the farm to live out his golden years because he wasn’t adjusting well to our son becoming a husband and father……he showed his displeasure by barfing, daily, in their shoes. So we inherited a 14-year-old cat who has no interest in doing anything farm related, he just barfs somewhere in the barn when he gets pissed because his food dish has been empty for like 5 minutes.
Dusty being a worthless barn cat doesn’t really bother us. Yes, Steve swears when he finds yet another pile of vomit on his gloves, tarps or tools, but we try to keep a sense of humor. We just keep with the routine wearing a tight smile on our faces. We let Dusty out of the barn in the morning so he can spread his massive self somewhere in our way while sunning himself. He never moves. During evening chores, we lock him up in the barn so he will be safe from predators…..always mindful to check his food and water supply, or we will certainly get the vomit treatment.
Lately, Dusty is trying our patience on an entirely different level. We can tolerate his lazy behavior and the fact that he has never performed one act of “barn” cat duties. We can look past the passive-aggressive vomit piles when he finds our attention lacking. We can even overlook his irritating habit of becoming a trip hazard by throwing himself under our feet while we are carrying something bulky. But we cannot put up with his latest shenanigans.
We have many customers who come to the farm to pick up chicken, eggs and produce. They typically toot the horn upon arrival so we can come back to the farm shop to sell them what they need. Lately, the sound of a car coming down the dirt road is the signal for Dusty to play his new game. The game is apparently called, “Stowaway Cat”. Yes, our fat ass, old fart, barfing cat is sneaking into our customer’s cars and then hiding quietly in an attempt to not be detected.
As the sun is setting and chores are being completed, Steve can now be seen pulling out his phone to text that day’s visitor asking them to please go out to check their vehicle for our cat. All the while we quietly pray that he hasn’t found reason to get pissed off at them.