Cat Tales: Bones And The Snow Day

Hi there,

Welcome to this sleepytime cat tale about Bones,

The neighborhood cat.

My name is Susan Guttridge,

And tonight I'll be reading you the story of Bones and the snow day.

I'm so pleased to have you here.

If you've been following along on the adventures of my pet cat named Bones,

Then you likely know that he was once a found cat about 10 years ago,

So slim and so lost.

I had brought him home,

Cleaned him up,

And with affection and regular meals,

He quickly outgrew the name Bones,

And grew to be a wise,

Street-smart cat,

Who is loved by all my neighbors.

We call him Bones,

And Mr.

Bones,

And Bonesy,

And on some days Billy Bob Bones.

These stories about Bones are in some ways true.

Bones really was a found cat.

His name really is Bones,

And everyone in my neighborhood really does seem to light up when they see him.

But the rest of these stories are purely fictional,

Based on my guess as to what Bones gets up to all day long.

I quite enjoy the company of Bones.

My face also lights up when I see him.

You know,

There's a certain type of joy when living with a cat,

Because,

Well,

You really never are alone when there's a cat around.

Their unique personalities make every day a bit more interesting.

Alright,

Get comfortable in your bed.

Adjust your sheets just right.

Relax your head onto your soft pillow.

Shift your body as you need to get out all the leftover wiggles and fidgets from the day.

Take a deep,

Slow breath in,

And at a pace that feels right for you,

Release it out.

Take another breath,

Just like that.

And now,

With your breath slow and deep,

I'll start your story.

You should know that my intention had always been to have Bones as an inside cat.

However,

He just could not seem to outgrow his desire to be outdoors.

In fact,

The low side of my front door is worn down and discolored in the spot where Bones paws at it to let me know when he wants out.

Many years ago,

When my dog had been just a puppy,

I had attached a bell there.

I had invested many hours trying to teach my dog to ring the bell,

Which was designed to alert us that she needed to go outside to do her business.

The first time I heard that bell ring,

Let me tell you,

I was so pleased that all the training had finally paid off.

I remember I had excitedly gone to the door to let my dog out,

Only to find Bones sitting at the door,

Pawing at the bell to make it ring so that he could be let outside.

Bones really is a very smart cat.

Each morning,

As I wake for the day,

Bones also wakes from where he had been sleeping.

I suddenly find him by my side and following closely near my feet to solicit my affection.

On this particular snowy winter day,

As I made my morning coffee,

Bones weaved himself between my ankles,

A purr rumbling loudly as he rubbed his face against my leg.

It's an interesting behavior,

This face rubbing onto things that cats do.

I once learned from a cat encyclopedia that cats have scent glands around their cheeks,

On top of their heads,

And base of their tail,

And that when they rub against things,

They leave behind a scent they can identify.

I like to tell myself that when Bonesy rubs against me,

Leaving behind his secret feline scent,

It's his way of making sure that no matter what happens,

No matter where his adventures leave him,

He will always be able to find his way back to me and to his home.

And so,

On this morning,

As I stood sipping my coffee,

I watched,

And I smiled as Bones weaved himself between my ankles,

Rubbing his cute orange face periodically against my leg,

Leaving behind wisps of his scent,

Weaving our lives together in the most mysterious of cat ways.

After a few minutes of this,

Bones took a few steps away from me,

Then looked back,

Meowing at me.

This was another one of his unique behaviors.

Bones would do this kind of walk,

Turn,

Meow strategy until I would stop what I was doing and walk him over to his food dish.

And it wasn't always because the dish was empty.

I think it's just that he prefers some company when walking to his food dish.

One could conclude that Bones is a very social eater.

And so I did just what he was asking,

And I walked him to his food dish,

Which is located in a very unique spot in my house.

Bones had been living with us for about a year or two before I adopted my dog,

And I had been worried the puppy would eat up Bonesy's food or get into his litter box,

Which would be very gross.

So I converted my hall closet into a cat closet.

This involved cutting a mouse-hole-shaped opening at the bottom that only a cat could squeeze into,

Placing the litter box on the floor with a mat under it to catch any litter that might get kicked out,

And then adding shelves to the walls at various heights that Bones could leap up to,

And on one of those shelves was where his food dish sat,

All completely dog-free.

It really is quite the convenient setup.

I guess until the day comes that I might want to sell my home and the new homeowners might not want a cat closet with a mouse-shaped hole in the bottom of the door,

But I'll deal with that should the time ever come.

After finishing his breakfast,

I heard Bones leap down from the shelves,

His soft mew as he wandered to the front door,

And then the sound of him pawing at the door to be let outside so that his adventures could begin.

I put down my own breakfast to meet him at the door,

Speaking softly.

I let him know how surprised I was that he wanted to go out on such a cold,

Wintry day.

Bones turned away from the door,

Leaning into me so that I could pet him,

And then he turned back to the door,

As if to say,

I'll be just fine,

Don't worry.

He did,

After all,

Have a wonderfully soft and warm fur coat.

I unlocked and opened the heavy wooden door,

And pushed open the screen door.

The hinges whined with their usual rebellion,

And a gust of cold air caught me off guard,

Causing me to instinctively step back.

The cold also seemed to prompt Bones to pause,

Raising his chin as he sniffed the air,

Taking in a sense of winter's arrival.

And then,

Shaking his head,

And perhaps before he could change his mind,

He dashed out the door.

I quickly closed it behind him to keep the cold out,

But I did decide I would check back often,

Just in case he decided to cut his adventures short and needed to be let back inside.

From the window,

I watched as Bones scampered off the front deck,

The chilly winter air kissing his whiskers.

With a graceful leap,

He left the deck to land on the snow-dusted driveway.

His delicate paws sank into the wet blanket of snow.

I wondered if he experienced a sensation of surprise and awe,

And I watched as he lifted one paw,

Shaking off the snow,

Putting it down only to lift the other paw,

Shaking it and looking intently at the snow flicking off.

I watched by the window until I was sure he wasn't going to want to come back in.

I guess the way the snow transformed his daily stomping ground posed too much potential for an adventure for him to turn back now.

Watching Bones explore the snow,

I couldn't help but smile.

I stepped away from the window,

The warmth of the house wrapping around me like a soft blanket,

Inviting me back to the comfort of my morning routine.

I walked to the kitchen,

Where my breakfast waited,

Along with a novel I was eager to continue.

With a few snowflakes clinging to his tail where it had brushed the ground,

Bones took a few tentative steps through the snow.

He moved carefully at first,

Stepping gingerly through the snow,

Lifting each paw with hesitation,

Adjusting to the strange,

Chilly sensation beneath him.

But with every step,

He seemed to grow more sure-footed,

Leaving behind a delicate trail of small,

Determined paw prints as he ventured into the quiet,

Snowy Sunday morning.

You should know that my neighborhood is home to more than just cats and dogs,

And likely a few hamsters and budgies and other caged creatures tucked away inside cozy homes.

Squirrels also live here,

Lingering and leaping in the treetops.

Raccoons sometimes appear on security camera footage as they cautiously search for scraps,

And deer wandering from the nearby parks and thickets,

Nibbling at shrugs as they pass through.

So it was no surprise that Bonesy's adventure took a curious turn when his sensitive nose caught the earthy scent of a deer,

Woven into the crisp winter air.

Cats,

After all,

Have a very powerful sense of smell,

And Bones knew this was his greatest tool of all to navigate the world with.

His ears perked up,

Swiveled forward,

And his body language shifted with new-found excitement.

With a flick of his tail,

He set off,

Following the faint tracks left behind in the snow.

His movements were slow,

Cautious,

Precise,

A dance of feline grace and playful curiosity.

He crouched low as he walked,

His belly skimming the snow's surface,

His eyes keenly fixed ahead.

Every so often,

He paused,

Nose twitching,

Whiskers quivering,

As he seemed to decipher the story hidden in the scent marks left behind.

Step-by-step,

His careful pursuit became a game of stealth and discovery.

Now and then,

He pounced lightly from one track to another,

As if trying to surprise the invisible deer just ahead.

There was a lightness in his step,

A flick of his paws as he landed,

Shaking off the snow with each step.

It was as if the snow itself had become a playmate,

Challenging him to a game of chase.

His curiosity was palpable,

A vivid thread of excitement woven through his every move.

Bones was no longer just a cat in the snow,

He was an explorer,

A hunter.

Tracing the echoes of a presence he had never actually seen.

Driven by his curious,

Playful heart,

Forever intrigued by what may lay ahead.

As Bones pressed on,

The tracks he had been following grew fainter,

Softened by the steadily falling snow.

The scent of a deer,

Or so he had thought it was a deer,

Once sharp and inviting,

Began to fade,

Dissolving into the falling snow.

With nothing left to follow,

His interest waned,

And Bones slowed,

His playful pursuit coming to an end.

He stood tall.

He blinked,

Looking around to take in his surroundings.

Bones realized he was now on the far side of the park.

Nestled along the park's edge was a row of houses,

Their rooftops blanketed in snow.

One of these houses belonged to his friend Teresa,

A kind lady who lived there with her daughters.

Her home was a familiar and inviting place,

Warmed by the steady crackle of a wood stove,

And often filled with the rich aroma of her delicious chicken broth soups.

Mr.

Bones had visited her before,

And on this cold morning,

Seeing as he found himself on her side of the park,

Decided it was the perfect place to stop.

Padding through the snow,

Bones made his way into Teresa's backyard,

Pausing now and then to sniff at the snow,

Reading the traces of all the creatures who had passed through before him much earlier that morning.

Then,

With a twitch of his tail,

He crouched low and leapt effortlessly,

Landing gracefully in the frame of a frosty window.

From his perch on the wooden window ledge,

Bones peered inside at the room that lay before him.

The sitting room was bathed in the soft glow of lamplight,

The flicker of a wood stove casting golden shadows across the room.

A couch and a deep cushioned armchair sat beside the fire,

Draped with a well-loved knit blanket,

And a stack of books rested on a low nearby table.

The room looked so cozy,

So warm,

So peaceful,

The perfect contrast to the snowy world beyond the window.

Just then,

A brown-haired girl wandered into the room,

Her eyes widening as she saw Bones outside in the windowsill,

And her face lit up with delight.

Without hesitation,

She hurried to a side door,

Pulling it open just enough to let the cat in.

She called out,

Joey!

Come here,

You big kitty!

Bones,

Also known as Joey in this home,

Familiar with the routine,

Leapt down from the window,

Landing onto the back of a snow-dusted chair,

Then hopped lightly to the ground.

He padded around the side of the house,

His paws sinking into the fresh snow before slipping through the open doorway and into the cozy warmth of the home.

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Immediately found himself in the little girl's embrace as she lifted him from the floor.

She bundled him up into her arms and walked him over to the couch,

All the while talking to him about how happy she was to see him again.

From her tiny embrace,

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Launched himself onto the couch,

Careful not to give her a scratch,

And exerting a seemingly effortless grace,

Landing soundlessly onto the soft cushions.

Bones paused for a moment,

Surveying the space with a slow blink,

Before turning in a slow,

Deliberate circle once,

Twice,

Finding just the right spot.

Then,

With a satisfied sigh,

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Lowered himself down,

Tucking his front paws neatly beneath his chest,

His tail curling loosely around his body.

The warmth of the room wrapped around him.

He let his eyes drift half-closed,

Settling in for a rest in this cozy,

Friendly home.

For the remainder of the morning,

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Napped on the couch.

Eventually,

He roused when he heard the sounds of Teresa making lunch.

He took his time stretching,

Walking,

And wandering into the kitchen,

And without fail,

Teresa had in fact made her delicious chicken broth soup.

What else would a person do on a snowy Sunday?

Almost predictably,

A bowl of warm broth was set down for Bones,

Also known as Joey.

He lowered his head to the dish,

His nose twitching as he took in the rich,

Familiar scent.

With a first careful lap of his tongue,

He tested the temperature and tasted the savory,

Delicious liquid.

After a few delicate sips,

He paused.

Slowly,

Bones lifted his head,

Licking his lips in a thoughtful sort of way.

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Looked toward Teresa,

His golden eyes meeting hers,

As if offering a silent but certain thank you.

A slow blink sealed the message,

And with renewed focus,

Bones lowered his head.

Resumed his meal,

His tail flicking slightly at the tip as he dug in with satisfaction.

When at last the dish was empty,

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Gave a small appreciative lick of his nose and sat back.

He lifted a paw and wiped it deliberately over his face,

Starting at his whiskers and working upward toward his ears with meticulous precision.

Satisfied with this first pass,

He switched paws,

Repeating the motion in practiced rhythm.

After cleaning himself came the full body stretch,

A slow,

Luxurious lengthening of his front legs,

Claws extending briefly before relaxing again.

His back arched,

His tail lifted high,

And with the final stretch of his back legs,

He let out a small sigh,

The sound of a fully content cat.

With his meal finished,

And his grooming complete,

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

Wandered over to the door and sat patiently.

For a moment,

No one seemed to notice the orange cat waiting patiently by the entrance,

So he let out a small mew,

Then lifted a paw,

Extending his claws to scratch lightly at the door.

The soft,

Scritch-scritch sound of claws on wood caught Teresa's attention.

She hurried over,

Exclaiming,

No,

No,

No,

Joey,

No scratching!

But her scolding was gentle,

Already paired with a knowing smile.

Here you go,

She added as she pulled the door open.

Bones,

Also known as Joey,

With unhurried grace,

Sauntered back outside,

Stepping into the cold,

Wintry day once more.

Sudden remembering washed over him as his paws touched the cold,

Wet snow.

Bones paused,

Lifting one paw,

Then the other,

Testing the chill.

At first,

He didn't seem to mind as he stepped forward gingerly,

Leaving a trail of neat paw prints behind him,

His tail flicking as he padded along,

His breath a soft mist in the crisp air.

But within minutes,

The cold began to seep through his fur,

And he hesitated,

Flicking his paws in protest after each step.

Seeing as how he found himself at the edge of Teresa's backyard,

Beside a large wooden fence framing the space,

He opted for higher ground.

With a decisive twitch of his ears,

In one smooth motion,

He leapt up onto the fence,

Landing lightly where the snow hadn't yet gathered.

Bones trotted along the narrow fence rail,

From one yard to the next,

Then to the next,

Then to the next.

At times,

His attention flicked to the snowflakes drifting lazily through the air.

His trot slowed,

His eyes wide,

Whiskers twitching as he tracked one such tumbling flake,

Balancing so as to swipe at the flake with a curious paw,

Before putting that paw back down,

And watching the snowflake vanish into the white snow below.

And then,

Resuming his delicate balancing act of walking along the fence line.

At one juncture point in the fence,

A tree branch,

Heavily burdened with thick snow,

Drooped across the fence.

Bones hesitated,

Seeming to calculate the distance.

Then he lowered himself into a crouch,

His muscles coiling,

His ears angled forward in quiet focus.

And with a final subtle shift of his weight,

He pushed off with his powerful hind legs,

Springing effortlessly over the snow-laden branch.

And with measured balance,

He landed sure-footed on the other side.

Snow dusted his back,

And Mr.

Bones gave a small shake,

Before continuing on,

His pace steady,

His path familiar.

Soon,

He found himself back along his own fence line,

The route instinctive now,

Leading him home.

As for me,

It was quite the perfect quiet snowy Sunday.

With no errands to run,

I was content to sit on my own cozy couch with a novel in hand.

As I finished the chapter,

I lifted my gaze from the book,

As I often do after a particularly good part,

So as to fully absorb the storyline.

And it was a good thing I did,

Because that was when I spotted Bones,

Walking along the fence,

And his body crouching,

As though to leap from the fence onto the back deck.

I recognized the way his ears tilted forward,

The way his steps had quickened with expectation.

So I got up and went to my back door,

And I pulled it open just in time.

Without missing a beat,

Bones leaped from the fence,

Crossed the snow-dusted back deck,

And darted inside,

The warmth of the home wrapping around him once more.

There you are,

Little buddy.

Welcome home,

Bones,

I said.

His tail wrapped around my leg as I gave his little head a scratch.

Then I resumed my place on the couch with my book,

And to my delight,

Bones jumped up beside me.

He yawned,

And stretched,

And then curled up on the warm blanket,

A low rumbling purr vibrating through his body,

The sound of complete contentment.

He really was in the perfect spot,

One that allowed me to hold my book with one hand,

And pet his soft fur with the other.

Now this was the perfect way to spend a snowy Sunday afternoon.

Take a deep breath in,

And,

Breathing out just at your own pace,

Notice how your own body is relaxed and settled into the warmth and comfort of your own cozy space,

Just like Bones curled up after his adventure.

Good night,

And may the peaceful wanderings of my sweet cat,

Bones,

Gently guide you into a restful sleep.

Sweet dreams,

Friend.