And there he was last night.... that orange cat. Sleeping on his favorite chair on the back porch. My guess is that he had spent the last bunch of days out in the fields catching the mice that were re-located when the hay was cut this past week. That orange cat probably spent his nights feasting on mice in the back of our barn, so he didn't need Meow Mix when he had warm mouse-meat for his lunch and dinner.
I went out there to say hello to him last night and he stayed on that chair, rolled over on his back so his belly was up towards the porch ceiling, and he looked at me in that upside-down way that all cats seem to instinctively have mastered. Quite possibly, people may look better in the eyes of a cat when we're viewed upside-down. That orange cat meowed soft sounds and started to purr.
As he purred, I put my hand out and gave him a few gentle rubs on the top of his head... he kept purring. He didn't try to scratch me, didn't move from the chair... he just laid there, quite content.
"Welcome back," said I.
"Meow, meow," said he.
My husband has been calling that orange cat Pumpkin Kitty ever since we first saw him, which is nearly eleven months ago.
So that's his name, I guess. Pumpkin Kitty. Or just plain Pumpkin.
Sounds better than That Orange Cat or Orange Kitty.
The name 'Pumpkin' seems to fit that orange and white cat..... he can stay out in those fields for days and days.... plus he's a hard-headed cat who wants to do things his own way, no questions asked. He has all the resiliency and stubbornness of a field pumpkin. He found his way to our property during last year's pumpkin season, and he's still here for this season's pumpkin-picking time. That cat has resisted every effort of ours to catch him and bring him to the shelter, and he has the patience and fortitude of those slow-growing pumpkins. So, Pumpkin it is, and I guess he's here to stay until he wants to take his cat-self elsewhere.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange you glad you finally gave me a real name?
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