Never, ever try to please a cat

Schnookums

Frankie in repose

Meet Frankie, also known as Frankie G. and Francis and Frank Sinatra and Schnookums. A cat can't have enough names, especially when he responds to none of them. Frankie showed up about 5 years ago. It was impossible to miss him. Not only does he have the largest head ever seen on a cat, but he also has a megaphone meow. I'd heard the meow as he stalked across our back yard, and then I heard my neighbors talking about it. The conversation went something like this: "Did you hear that cat with the obnoxious meow? Oh, yeah, I heard him. Well, I'm not feeding him. Well, I'm not feeding him either." So I had to feed him. I had to do it. Not only that, I had to get him a cat dish, a water dispenser, toys and a cat bed. I had to let him sleep in the house when it was cold at night. I had to pick him up and kiss the top of his big head. I had to do it for not so little Schnookums. Pretty soon, he was lying on his back in the grass, soaking up the sun and hollering for an Old Fashioned.  

Shy Ava

Then Ava came along. Ava is a complete mystery. She showed up late one night, grabbed Frankie's food dish from the patio and tried to run with it in her mouth while I watched from the other side of the den window. I put out some food for her, and she started waiting on the doorstep for me, so thankful that she'd finally found the soup kitchen. Ava's feral, but she seems to have separated from the rest of her colony. Or maybe they put her out. She is - and I say this with nothing but love in my heart - incredibly stupid. Bless her little heart.  

The cat hut

After noticing that Ava crept into the bushes to sleep, I got her a cat hut. It resembles a cave with a comfy cushion, walls and a roof. Ava wouldn't go anywhere near it even though I doused it with catnip and kitty treats. The bed lacked 50 escape routes. So Frankie abandoned his old bed, appropriated the cat hut and added a wet bar, a lava lamp and a big screen TV. He sits in it and spits in the direction of the neighbors who refused to feed him.

Kitty nirvana: a heated bed (this is a model cat)

Frankie is warm and cozy in his hut, which moves inside the house during cold snaps. But, Ava, poor little Ava, was a matchstick girl out in the elements. So I got her a heated cat mat that plugs into the outlet next to the back door. With that mat, Ava found nirvana. She loves the heated cat mat. 

The deluxe heated cat house. Maybe I spent too much?

Then Frankie strolled across the mat one day while Ava was out foraging or whatever it is she does and sat his big butt down on it - and refused to move when Ava returned and cried pitifully at him. So I went on Amazon and ordered a deluxe heated cat house fit for a king (nothing's too good for Schnookums). I assembled it, plugged it in, nailed on a sign that reads "bachelor quarters" and set it up next to Ava's mat. The kitty house is so nice that Mr. G. is thinking about adding it to the homeowner's insurance. Frankie ambled up, sniffed it and plopped down on Ava's mat. I picked him up, peeled back the roof of the cat house and put him inside. He hissed and spat at me, marched out of the house and plopped down on Ava's mat. I sprinkled some kitty treats inside the house. Frankie batted them out with his paw, ate them and plopped down on Ava's mat. 

Explain it to me again. Just one more time.

Meanwhile, Mr. G. keeps asking how much we paid for the deluxe kitty house, and I keep having to change the subject (I find "So explain to me again what a Hail Mary pass is" works really well). Cats. Pwwfft!