Archive for Finn

Thought I lost Finncat today

Posted in Pets with tags , , , on January 17, 2012 by Mike

My awesome cat Finn has a bad habit of trying to dart out the door into the great wide world – not too sure what he expects he’ll find out there but it definitely won’t be ice cream.  Normally he’ll only make it out to the front yard and start sniffing around the zoysia, other times he’ll make it all the way to the wooded area of our lot and the next ten minutes will be spent trying to chase him back to the garage and cursing him. Some people, like Big Red Poet or my brothers, might suggest this is a sign that Finn is not happy in his current home, the former because he covets Finn and the latter because they’re mean, but I’m not going to dignify those kinds of thoughts with a reply/rebuttal, except for, “Screw you, Finn’s mine.”

This is the Finncat.

Anyway, today I was hanging out with the girls as none of us had school, thanks to the MLK holiday. Their grandfather came over to check on them and let them know their nanny Dorothy wanted to make pumpkin bread with them later in the day, then left for some errands.  My older daughter and I continued our game of Battleship (which she won), while my younger daughter begged to tag along with her Bubba, to no avail.

Thirty minutes later, I get up to see about getting lunch ready and that’s when I notice the door to the garage is open just enough to let a poofy cat scamper through.  Also, the garage door is up, so I immediately know Finn is GONE.  I spent the next ten minutes tracking around the woods snapping my fingers hoping Finn will be fooled into thinking it’s feeding time (that’s how I’ve conditioned my cats to know it’s time to eat, not that they really need a time…greedy bastards).  Nothing – I have no idea where he could be by this point.

I got back home and called Laura to tell her what had happened – she laughed and said served him right.  Actually, she didn’t say that, though that’s what I expected her to say because she hates Finn.  Really, though, she left work to come home and help look for him.

After hanging up with Laura, I went back out to look for Finny, but thinking it was a lost cause as he had never disappeared like this. Then I thought about the time Laura found the front leg of a cat next to the creek behind our house.  Then I thought about the night I saw a bobcat when I was out jogging. Then there were the reports of the packs of wolves roaming the streets (okay, I made that last one up). “Why couldn’t it have been Percy?” crossed my mind a few times as well – he’s newer and I wasn’t as attached to him yet.


As I’m walking out back in the woods again, I look up toward my back yard and, yep, there’s Finn, darting across the lawn back toward the front of the house .  Relief washes over me as I see my two girls attempt to corral him, but it immediately turns to dismay as they only succeed in chasing him under our neighbor’s fence. I shoo them back in the house (after taking the cat-food cannister from my older one) and call to Finn.  He peeks up from under the fence and mews at me a few times, probably thinking I’m going to scruff the shit out of him if he gets close enough.  His mouth is wide open as if he’s panting – this happens when cats get stressed out, I’m told (though I’m also told it might suggest a heart ailment, among other expensive problems).  I call to him a few times in my reassuring, “no, I’m not going to scruff the shit out of you” voice as he weighs his current freedom against his moral responsibility to me as my pet (hey, he is named Finn). Love wins out (I’ll tell myself it wasn’t a love of ice cream…)

Finn eventually trots over to me and lets me pick him up, and as I take him back in the house I hold him close, rubbing my nose and face in his thick brown fur, which is full of dirt and leaves from his adventure.  I don’t care.

Laura pulls up in the driveway and sees me with Finn, and promptly rolls her eyes.  She gets lunch and goes back to work. The girls fawn over Finn for a bit until Percy is noticed all alone, and Finn, seeing his opportunity, takes up residence on my bed.

I lay next to him for a bit.  He purrs as I scratch his ears.

Finn is back.

The Timeless Art of Lounging

Whose common theme is death of Samcats…

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on February 8, 2010 by Mike

One morning a week or so ago I was driving my oldest to school when she announced rather out of the blue,  “I miss Sammy.”   Sammy, or Samcat as I referred to him, was my first cat who had been with me since 1996 (well, I had one for a few months prior to Sam, at least until my parents stole him). My wife and I  had to put him down about two years ago when he developed a brain tumor, but prior to that he had been a one-person cat (me) who regularly bit anyone else who attempted to pet him.

So it was a bit of a surprise when my daughter made her announcement, as we now have three much more tolerant cats roaming our house, including a long-haired tabby named Finn (my vet-wife tells me he’s  a tabby.  I’m convinced the Super-fuzz is at least part Maine Coon).

Have you seen this cat? He's AWESOME.

I admit, I didn’t know quite what to say.  At first I just wrote it off to her being a bit dramatic, but then we started talking  about what was fair and what wasn’t.  She seemed to think that Sam’s death was unfair as he didn’t live as long as one of our current cats, who is about 13 or so.  We got around to talking about how life isn’t always fair in things like that, and I mentioned that we could say the same thing about people, too.  Ended up trying to point out that “fair” and “unfair” aren’t really the correct words, but that’s a common point of contention with her these days (“Why do you get a big coke and I get a small one, Dad?  That’s not fair.”).  By the time we got to the school, though, I think her thoughts of Sammy had been lost in anticipation of the school day.

But I still think about him  and our conversation.

The English teacher in me wanted to bust out some Hamlet on her, to be honest.  “Tis sweet and commendable, Tina, To give these mourning duties to Samcat…” etc., etc., but it would have been lost on her (as it is my students…sigh).  And those are the villain’s lines – I hadn’t planned on playing the villain against my daughter until she started dating.  But despite the fact that they’re Claudius’ lines, who has a very definite reason for desiring Hamlet to stop thinking about his dead father, there’s also a lot of truth there, commenting about the necessary cycles that life holds (a common theme to the play, in fact).

The late, great George Carlin recognized this truth in perhaps something else I could have said to my daughter: “Life… is a series of dogs […] You just keep getting a new dog, don’t you? That’s what’s good about them. They don’t live too long… Sometimes, you can get a dog that looks exactly like the dog you used to have. Right? You shop around a little bit, and you find a dog identical to your former dog. And that’s real handy cause you don’t have to change the pictures on your mirror or anything. Right? You just bring the dead one into the pet shop. Throw him up on the counter and say, ‘Give me another one of them. That was real good.'”

So was Samcat.