Thursday, May 10, 2012

Maybe He Isn't As Smart As We Thought

You know how all the time I brag on my kids and pets?

Like...Sam is soo smart, Charlie is sooo awesome, Fonz is the bestest dog the world ever saw, Kale is the cuddliest dog the world ever saw, and Sampson is the coolest cat there ever was?

Part of the reason why I love Sampson so much is because he is so easy. He goes outside so I pretty much never have to clean a litter box, only rarely fill up a food dish, and am not constantly barraged by a needy cat who wants attention. He goes outside a LOT, and when people ask me if I ever worry, I tell them that it is OK, he is smarter than both of my dogs put together, and possibly throw in one of my kids too. Plus he has all of his claws so he can fight his way out of a messy situation. Or at the very least, climb his way.

But every once in a while, OK...once every couple of weeks, I realize that I haven't seen Sampson in a few days. Usually it happens after we have come home from Michigan and he has to get out and go see all of his peeps in the 'hood that he's missed while we were gone. (Yes, we are THOSE people who take their cat in the car with them when they leave town. He loves it there, and my neighbors actually think he is pretty cool too. Now please neighbors, please don't shoot him.)

Yesterday morning, as I was rushing out the door to get everyone to daycare and me to work, I mentioned to Workaholic (*gasp* he was home!) that I hadn't seen Sampson since Monday morning. He shrugged and turned around and went into the bathroom. Because apparently that is what he does when we are all gone, hang out in the bathroom.

I got into my mommy minivan and oh-so-carefully backed out of the garage. Which is to say that I looked behind me in both the back-up camera and the rear view mirror, and to the left and right of where I was going using my side mirrors and turning around to make sure there were no random vehicles that were there that shouldn't be there that I would run into at an entirely too fast speed.

I actually back up in my own driveway so I can pull forward out of it. I don't like taking the chance that my neighbors' kids will decide that the opportune moment to ride their scooter across my driveway is the exact millisecond that I decide to floor it out into the street. Yes, I am cautious. Yes, I hit my husband's van twice.

And I just happened to look up at the roof of my house before I shifted into drive and went on my way, and lo-and-behold! There was Sampson! On the roof of my garage! Very high up! Looking like he was about to jump!

Yep, my super-duper-street-smart cat was about to take a dive from 12 feet up, plunging to the driveway below to an almost certain broken limb. I laughed at the irony of the situation and ran inside to tell Workaholic he needed to save our cat. Our genius cat. Who had somehow found his way onto our roof and could not figure out how to get down. 

Workaholic came out of the bathroom, I think I was interrupting a nap, and pulled out his trusty yellow 4 foot ladder. He is not quite 6 feet tall, and simple math shows us that even standing on the top of the ladder which clearly is marked DO NOT STAND HERE, he was still unable to reach our beloved pet. So he is reaching, and I am coaching from the sidelines, "Grab him by the back of the neck, give him a treat, he isn't going to step onto your hands silly!" (except silly may have been replaced by dumbass)

Poor Sampson looked hungry and tired and desperate, and he finally did that cat thing where he puts one paw in front of the other, trying to scale down the side of our fascia, wiggling his butt in the tell-tale sign of "I'm going to go for it!" and Workaholic was able to grab him by the back of the neck and yank him off of the roof.

The girls cheered, I wanted to pet and love on him, but alas, now I was running really late for daycare and work. He was unceremoniously thrown put in the house to sleep off his adventures and fill his belly.

Today, to thank us, Sampson brought home what looked like either a regurgitated or defecated duck (or something), although it honestly could have just been that mangled and...chewed? It is definitely the biggest and most hard-fought for prize that he has ever awarded us. So I guess he was OK being dragged from his perch and allowed to sleep on the couch.

I still think he is the awesomest cat ever.  

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