He’s A Feline.

Here’s Truman, looking like he’s investigating his shadow on the roof on Friday afternoon.

We had a lot of activity in the house this week. Much of the damage from Monsoon Season 2021 was finally repaired and the house is looking intact again. Last Thursday and Friday the drywall company was here and replaced the missing drywall that was removed due to water damage. On Monday and Tuesday this week, our new exterior doors were replaced. The original doors were never installed correctly and the floor and door framing underneath the exterior doors on the second floor were in really bad shape. The contractors had to remove and rebuild the flooring in our bedroom in front of our door that goes outside.

The contractors made a small hole in the floor to inspect the damage. They went to seal up the hole when they noticed cat hair on the edges of the hole. Truman was missing. They were confident he’d gone down the hole.

We searched around the house, searched around the property, searched the roof (where the second floor doors provide access), no Truman. The contractor said, “I see the insulation mashed down, he’s down there”.

Kitty was almost sealed up in the floor while sniffing the floor joists between the first and second floor.

The contractors ended up taking out a much bigger section of the floor and climbing down in to see what was up. A few moments later we heard the unmistakable sounds of a cat being pulled out of a hiding place by his paws and he was not happy. But he was out of the hole and back up in the house where he belonged.

I raided my casino winnings for a very nice tip for the extra work the contractors did to extract Truman from the floor joists. Truman demanded treats upon his extraction.

Chris found Truman impersonating Christmas ornaments yesterday.

Truman has been very vocal since our return from vacation last night. He wants to be very close to me and he’s been purring very loudly the entire time. He’s generally the most “standoffish” of cats that have adopted me over the years, but he’s showing me his love in his own way.

Apparently he experienced a deficit in treats or something while staying here at home with the rest of the family; he’s been banging on his kibble dispenser with a noticeable intensity. If I give him a treat he purrs while he eats. I get that.

Truman was happy to notice that he was not being packed up with the big suitcases. He’s in the care of the rest of our family as we travel back east this week. I’m sure he will make his demands known.

He enjoys the stools that line the counter between the kitchen and the family room. When the dogs run by he’s gives them a swat on the rear to say, “keep it moving, canine”. No claws are to be found, he’s just giving them his version of a motivational love tap.

Truman and the dogs have continued their bonding to the point that Truman feels comfortable hanging out in the kitchen again. He enjoys watching the world from the window sills.

Truman watching his morning “television”. He has a very specific ritual that must be adhered to else he’ll rattle our bedroom door, make loud demands, and rattle the door again. At sunrise.

The routine is: daddy gets up, makes a cup of coffee, checks the water dish, moves the existing food in the bowl around, cleans the litter boxes, and then dispenses five treats while Truman stands on his cat tree. After this is complete the human may return to bed as Truman jumps all the way up on his perch and watches his morning television of birds and javelinas in the back yard.

I posted a picture of Truman out on the roof a couple of weeks ago. He’s decided that he likes moonlit skies better and has insisted on spending some time surveying the property every night this past week. As the nights get chillier he doesn’t really spend as much time out there, but I like to think he’s spending quality time under the moonlight.

I do stay with him while he’s out on the roof because once in a while he’ll decide he might want to hop off the roof and we don’t allow that sort of thing.

Truman likes to play ball every morning while I’m in my office. I think he’s the first cat I’ve known to favorite his right paw instead of his left for batting at things. He’s really good at hitting the ball back to me.

Truman likes to stare at me from his cat tree during work hours. Once in a while he’ll trill in my direction to make sure I’m paying attention to The Feline One. We play ball; I throw a small rubber ball in his direction and he bats it back at me. He does this until he’s bored and then it’s time for treats.

He has a routine.