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| Jeff! |
This is Jeff.
Jeff is not my cat.
This has not stopped Jeff from:
strolling into my house
jumping into my car
napping on my deck chairs
making himself at home in my planter boxes
sassing the dog in the dog's backyard
My next-door neighbors came home and found Jeff sleeping on their bed, which surprised them, as Jeff isn't their cat, either.
Last year, when my house was being remodeled, one of the carpenters told me everyone loved my cat. This confused me because my indoor-only cat spent her days safely locked up upstairs, far away from the construction zone. It turned out Jeff waltzed inside to inspect the remodel and befriended everyone.
I keep meaning to tell Jeff's official family that we should attach a camera to him to see everywhere he goes.
22 comments:
Not a single word but a title: Master of the Watch
Can't comment on a word, but this is hysterical! Totally made my morning.
Wow. What a great cat to have watching the neighborhood.
One word? Moxie.
Gumption!
I would like to meet Jeff someday.
Normal
That is because all three of our current cats and the six before them all did the same thing. They wandered in an took over our lives.
Jeff = omnipresent (and maybe omniscient, come to think of it.)
Or it's less woo-woo and he's an extravert.
Jeff: Intrepid
We have a neighborhood cat, too. Her name is Alice and she's a lovely calico. She's never ventured inside our house, though we know she would if we opened the door to her. She frequently joins us on our back deck at lunch time for some pets and admiration. Alice has found a couple of spots in our garden that are perfect for afternoon napping. We don't know who her owners are, but they make sure she keeps her collar on, with a tag that has identifying information. We'll miss her when we move.
Because you're okay with readers mentioning typos in your posts (but not each other comments), I'd like to mention you misspelled Kelly's name in the post.
One word for Jeff the time he jumped into the USPS truck and tried to take a nap: dauntless.
The time he jumped in the grocery delivery car: audacious.
When he tries repeatedly (and daily) to get into my next-door neighbor's house even though he's not allowed inside because of allergies: persistent.
When another neighbor opened their van door and found Jeff napping in one of their car seats: comfortable.
Charmer.
But for Waylon, "interloper" may be more apt?
He needs his own new word. Curiousfriendipity. Picture 3 is peak CAT!
temerarious*
( * also known in back alleys as Tim, of the ever expanding empire of Fourth St. and Elm. )
I also have a Jeff. His name is Alfie and I often get up in the morning and find him asleep on the couch at one end, my own cat asleep on the other.
Peripatetic, of course.
I can only guess that those of you who find cats on your couch that don't really live in your house, have a cat door of some kind. You better hope one day, it's not a raccoon on the other end of the couch! Had a neighbor who'd been there, done that... I still think this is hysterical though.
Chutzpah-ish
or whatever is the adjectival form of "chutzpah"
Although, nightsmusic, if it was THIS raccoon on your couch, it would be the cutest pet to have!
This little guy is SO adorable.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ifwlZxpJOkw
He even brings his own bip for dinner.
Jeff is my kind of cat. When I was living in Seattle, my housemate's cat broke into the house next door and had a party with their cat's catnip, then sacked out on the couch to sleep it off.
OT: I want to say how much I appreciate this community and the people I have met here, both online and in person. This week, one of my #PandaTwitter friends passed away very suddenly from a heart attack. I'm not sure how old she was, but my impression is that she was much (much) younger than I am.
We only have such a short time here, and we owe it to our selves and the people we love to do work that fulfills us. Whether or not we get published, if writing sparks joy, then you should damn well write. I think my friend led a life that made her happy. She had family and friends that she loved, and was not afraid to share her opinions on Twitter. I suspect the only thing she regretted when she knew she was done, that she did not get to continue doing all that.
Panda on.
Rambler. Remember all those seventies songs about rambling?
intrepid...?
Cheating a bit for my one word description: (Mr) Mistoffelees
TS Eliot's "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats" was the very first book of poetry I ever read (when I was about 9 years old). I love it as much now as I did then. Sadly, my very worn copy has somehow been lost over the years.
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