Tao of Pauly

Lost Cat

Nicky noticed the cat after we got home from the Widespread Panic concert. Since we live on the first floor of a condo, the black and white cat with a fluffy tail must have squeezed through the metal bars. He hung out underneath a $10.99 green beach chair that I bought at Smith's. We let him be. I told Nicky that he was the perfect pest control and feast on all the big ass bugs and critters that invaded the porch after Midnight. He wasn't a stray. You don't see too many feral animals in Las Vegas. It's too fuckin' hot and they'd be burnt to a crisp. The lost cat had to be owned by someone in a nearby condo and or they let the cat out at night.

When I woke up on Wednesday morning, the cat was in the same spot and looked like it had not moved for eight hours. The cat incessantly meowed and Nicky said it wasn't a good sign. I gave him some water but I couldn't take the cat inside the apartment. It was at least 110 degrees and I was caught up in one of those "you know it's not really any of my business" dilemmas. I left a bowl of water for the cat and drove Nicky to work. When I got back twenty minutes later, the cat was still there as it pressed against the glass of the porch sliding door.

The night before there was some sort of domestic dispute. A trail of clothes led from the parking lot to an adjacent condo with a broken dvd player or something electronic. There were a few piles of clothes all over the walkway and in a nearby bush. It looked like a guy (based on the clothes) was kicked out of his apartment by his wife/girlfriend. His scorned partner tossed a bunch of clothes out the window or off the second story balcony. I thought that the cat could have been owned by one of those people and was either tossed out as well or escaped during their dispute.

I was going to call faux-security (two fat rent-a-guards wearing fluorescent green T-shirts that rode on bicycles) and tell them about the possibly lost cat. Las Vegas was in a holiday heat wave with temperatures hitting the 120 mark. I was worried for the cat's health, especially since it had been outside for at least twelve hours. I walked in front to see if it could climb through the metal bars and as soon as he saw me, he made a beeline towards me. First problem solved... I got the frickin' cat off my porch. The cat followed me back into the apartment. We both ran towards the open front door. I won the race and shut the door. The cat wandered around the corner and laid down underneath a pickup truck in the parking lot next to Nicky's car.

I never felt more guilty in Las Vegas. I wasn't supposed to have pets in the apartment but as willing to break that rule just to get the cat some AC. However, I was worried that if I brought the cat in, then it wouldn't want to leave and could tear the place apart when I had to meet my brother for lunch. I really wanted to punch the shit out of the owner for how they treated the cat... that is if I ever find the owner.

I have not seen the cat since.