Ranger

Last Edit October 21, 1998

Ranger is the name of the orange cat we acquired a little over a year ago. Orange stripped Humane Society baby. He was four months old. He is over 10 lb. and still growing.
Big cat.
When he lands on you, you know he's there.
Unfortunately, he knows who feeds him.
And he lands on me often.
He wants to be outside. We don't want him there. So my big seventeen year old chases him back into the house with a loud bellow any time the cat sneaks out.
The cat can move.
He also nerfs him when Ranger sneaks into his room.
Ranger has smashed a few items in there so he is not welcome if he isn't in his "calm" mood. Ranger recognizes the nerf gun. He hides the "bullets".
Ranger likes to sneak into the garage. It's where I keep my chinchillas. So far he has escaped. Chinchillas have a powerful scent they can put out in their urine when provoked. You would know it once you've smelled it. Ranger has been lucky.
My no-longer-with-us cat, when younger, used to sleep on the top of their cage. After he learned not to hiss on the way up. My old gray momma gets them right between the eyes. Great aim.
Ranger prefers canned food.
I insist on the expensive dry stuff.
He has a dish of each. If I am slow to deliver the canned stuff, he will eat the dry stuff. Or he will skate it around on the floor.
He's great at dragging things over his canned food to store it for later. Never know what I'll find on the kitchen floor.
He's a good alarm clock - if I let him. He will leap on me at about 5:30AM - a demand for food. If he's been really good, the bedroom door is open. If not, he will scratch and meow for attention. The rug by my door will never recover.
On weekends, he gets wet this way. I don't like waking up that early on a weekend. Unless I'm camping.
He likes to scratch things - so we like to keep his claws trimmed. Makes him helpless when you tickle his belly.
He lays on his back and stretches out his belly for me in the morning - part of the begging ritual. I insist on my decaf before feeding the animals. He doesn't want to wait.
Typical male.
But he has a hunter's instinct.
He hunts my dinner.
Especially chicken.
He will leap at the stove - and get batted down. He will climb on the counter. He will leap into the sink. He will, given the chance, steal the chicken right off your plate.
He's done this three times.
I retaliate. I give most of the chicken to the dog. Let the cat have a small amount. And scream at my seventeen year old to guard his plate. Chicken breast fillet is a bit expensive to use to feed the livestock.
The thanksgiving turkey needs an armed guard.
Last night was the third success for Ranger - until my son discovered him. Unbeknownst to me, the retrieved chicken was then put in the sink, with dishes piled over it. Like I wouldn't find it there.
The cat spent the better part of the evening meowing at me, crying and chasing me around.
Loud cat.
He knew where "his" chicken was. Wanted it.
Confused, I checked his food dish. His water. His litter pan.
Nope. He's not neglected.
My son insisted that he just wanted to be petted.
No, he has a different cry for that.
A mother knows.
I locked him out of the bedroom.
This morning, I was moving the dishes around in the sink and found the chicken. I confronted my son. He admitted his failure to protect his dinner. Actually, he had had enough and had returned the plate to the kitchen. (This new trait is so startling that it takes awhile to sink in. He actually returned dishes to the kitchen!)
However, he neglected to cover or otherwise protect the chicken. It should have been put in the refrigerator. It was big enough to be a leftover. A good after school snack for a growing boy.
And Ranger, being a hunter, had struck.
The dog was delighted to have chicken for breakfast.
The cat got a big enough piece to stop meowing. He buried it with the throw rug and then proceeded to race madly around the house. Tear-ass is one way to describe this expressed joy.
He has been known to bounce off my knee. People are furniture that exists for his amusement.
When he was finished wrecking havoc, he promptly curled up on my bed to sleep the day away.
Spoiled cat.