Tuesday's World According to Rusty

This last week hasn't been easy for Rusty, our oldest cat. And today has been particularly difficult-- too many people walking in and out of here. Contractor, carpenter, plumber. Too many voices, too much noise, just too-everything for this cat whose only daily mission in life is to sleep while the sun shines.

And the day isn't over. As I type, I'm waiting for the plumber to return, with the new hot/cold fixture for the shower. All the workmen on this contractor's crew have consistently been on time, which continually amazes me. Rusty, however, is not impressed. He's been moving from room to room, trying to find a quiet place to hide. He ran under our bed when the doorbell rang the first time this morning, but as soon as he realized that the contractor was headed towards the master bathroom, Rusty quickly left his favorite hiding place.

I tried to convince Rusty to stay out on the screen-porch today, but that didn't work. He meowed by the breakfast room door, pounded on the windows with his paw, and generally made such a fuss that I let him back in. No sooner had he decided to sleep in the laundry room, and there came the contractor, through the back door and into the kitchen. Rusty screeched at him. Silly cat sounded like a wounded owl.

Rusty is like the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz. He's a manx, so that makes him heftier than usual for a male cat. Take into account the fact that he can't let a morsel of food sit in the cat-food dishes (or even Gracie's dish) and that gives us a 20-pound orange and white Rusty. If there isn't a bit of food in his dish, he will just slowly walk over to the dog's bowl to see what's in there. And what a sight that makes. Gracie's bowl is deeper than the cat dishes, so just about all of Rusty's head goes deep into the dog bowl as he munches away. More often than not, I will catch him with his head in Gracie's bowl, and all I have to do is say "Rusty!!" and he backs himself out of the bowl and walks into the laundry room. Then he sits in there and sulks. Every once in a while, I'll hear a long sad sighing sound coming out of there. I swear, you would think that cat hadn't eaten in seventeen days.

Rusty is the oldest of the three cats, and older still than Gracie. So I guess Rusty thinks he's in charge of the animal kingdom here. When we first brought Gracie home as a 10-week-old puppy, Rusty out-weighed Gracie by about five pounds. He wouldn't go near that puppy, wouldn't even walk into the same room as the puppy. Rusty gave her a dirty look right from the start, meowed at my husband and I with the most awful sound. As if to say: "You realize what you have there is NOT a cat, don't you?!"

It took Rusty quite some time to become friendly with Gracie. About a year and a half. Now Rusty is either brave enough or hungry enough to stick his head into Gracie's food bowl and trust that dog not to take offense. Given the choice between brave and hungry, I think the latter is the reason. Rusty is always, always hungry. I feel like the 'food police' here, because I'm forever on alert so Rusty doesn't get too much food. But somehow, he always does. We found Rusty as a starving cat during our first year in Texas. My husband opened up a can of tuna fish for him... and Rusty has called our home his home ever since.

Well, the plumber is back now. Gracie is in the laundry room with Rusty. I put the dog in there because her barking intimidated the plumber, and I want that man to be able to finish his work in peace. Rusty, I'm sure, isn't thrilled to be sharing the laundry room with Gracie-- for the simple reason that I put them both in there with just a water bowl. Not a morsel of food in there for Rusty to steal. It's going to be a tough couple of hours for that cat.