Mincey’s Musings
Year One, Week Seven

In the Cat House

When a man and wife have a disagreement and the man fares less well than his spouse, it is sometimes comically said that the husband “is in the doghouse”. I once unexpectedly found myself in the cat house, though it certainly had nothing to do with my wife.

So far, you might think I was in a somewhat disreputable place, and I admit I both gave and received a lot of loving that afternoon. Gentle reader, don’t get excited! Though confession is good for the soul, I’m a little too vain to tell on myself in writing.

There was a somewhat dreary afternoon a few years ago when a pitiful, half-starved dog wandered into the Union County Board of Education parking lot. Brandi McBrayer worked there then, and she has a fondness for dogs and a special compassion for dogs in need.

It was somehow worked out that I would go home and get my old red Dodge™ pickup truck to transport this animal to the Union County Humane Society. Roger Flatford lifted the gangly animal into the truck bed, and Brandi accompanied me as I drove very slowly, as the dog was neither tied nor chained, and we feared he might jump out and hurt himself.

We finally arrived at the Humane Society, man, woman and beast intact. I was curious to see the setup of the place, for it was my first visit. Staff removed the dog from the truck bed and we walked inside. The room that housed the dogs was noisy, as seemingly every dog in the place was barking at us strangers who had invaded their space. I was glad the dogs were all in cages, for I fear some of them were biters, and I don’t mean fingernails!

I like dogs, but I have always been more of a cat lover, thanks to my mother and her lifetime of raising endless cats. I asked where the cats were, and I was told, “In the cat house out back.”

I first thought this might be a joke, and my darker mind drew up a steamier mental picture of a place that might be best located “out back”. Brandi and I followed where we were directed, and there I saw it.

It was basically a large, screened outdoor building, I am guessing to be about twelve by twenty feet. Inside were all manner of cats doing all kinds of things. Some were walking on a shelf close to the roof interior. Others were playing with all manner of furnishings provided for their amusement. Some were sleeping. Some were playing with other cats. They seemed to range across many different ages and mixes of breeds. I looked in vain for a domestic longhair that looked like my own Precious Kitty, and was somewhat vainly pleased that none of her species was to be found.

There were “kitty doors” so the cats could wander outside into an enclosed area to sun themselves. I even seem to remember heaters on the inside so the cats could warm themselves on chilly days. I was most impressed with this structure and its occupants. I’ve known some people (and once upon a time I was probably one) who didn’t have as nice a dwelling place as did those cats.

And how loving those cats were! Not many things would cheer a cat lover like being surrounded by a building full of felines and toms. Some of them were putting on their best show (selling themselves?), seemingly begging me to take them home. Unfortunately, I could not consider it, for my Precious Kitty is not very sharing of her house or her people.

The Union County Humane Society is located at 719 Hickory Star Road in Maynardville. I would advise any animal lover to visit. I seem to remember an exotic bird in the lobby that was most interesting.

Next week I’ll tell you more about my Precious Kitty.