The cat distribution system hits again!
Last fall somewhere between Halloween and Thanksgiving my wife and I stopped at a local supermarket where they had a large display of pumpkins outside of the store where we saw a crowd of people had gathered. My wife then saw a kitten hiding under the display. The cat wouldn't come out for anyone until my wife walked over and her cat whisperer routine and the kitten came out for her and right into her arms. A store employee came out with a small can of cat food and this poor cat just ate nonstop until the food was gone. Not planning on this we quickly took this scared mewing kitten to a local private no kill shelter to see if the kitten had a chip. So we dropped the kitten off and gave the shelter a small donation of $50. We called the shelter in two days and the cat had no chip and wasn't fixed. but they checked him out of disease and got a clean bill of health. My wife had fell in love with him and said she wanted to adopt him and three days later we picked him up after he had been neutered. We named him Macavity from the poem written by T.S Elliot. When we found him the weather was already cold just a few degrees above freezing with a bitter cold freeze predicted for the next week where the weather wouldn't not get above freezing even during the day. I do not believe he was a feral kitten as he was too acclimated and friendly to humans which mean someone dumped him and I have nothing but the most bitter contempt to anyone that would do that to a helpless young animal. When we took him to the shelter he weighed 2 1/2 pounds but now he is growing big and chunky and now tips the scale at 11 pounds already and he won't be year old until the end of August.
Macavity: The Mystery Cat
T. S. Eliot
1888 –
1965
Macavity’s a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw—
For he’s the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad’s despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime—Macavity’s not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
He’s broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime—Macavity’s not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air—
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity’s not there!
Macavity’s a ginger cat, he’s very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he’s half asleep, he’s always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
For he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square—
But when a crime’s discovered, then Macavity’s not there!
He’s outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard’s.
And when the larder’s looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke’s been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair—
Ay, there’s the wonder of the thing! Macavity’s not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty’s gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair—
But it’s useless to investigate—Macavity’s not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
‘It must have been Macavity!’—but he’s a mile away.
You’ll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs;
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place—MACAVITY WASN’T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
From Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. Copyright © 1939 by T. S. Eliot,
The cat distribution system hits again!
Last fall somewhere between Halloween and Thanksgiving my wife and I stopped at a local supermarket where they had a large display of pumpkins outside of the store where we saw a crowd of people had gathered. My wife then saw a kitten hiding under the display. The cat wouldn't come out for anyone until my wife walked over and her cat whisperer routine and the kitten came out for her and right into her arms. A store employee came out with a small can of cat food and this poor cat just ate nonstop until the food was gone. Not planning on this we quickly took this scared mewing kitten to a local private no kill shelter to see if the kitten had a chip. So we dropped the kitten off and gave the shelter a small donation of $50. We called the shelter in two days and the cat had no chip and wasn't fixed. but they checked him out of disease and got a clean bill of health. My wife had fell in love with him and said she wanted to adopt him and three days later we picked him up after he had been neutered. We named him Macavity from the poem written by T.S Elliot. When we found him the weather was already cold just a few degrees above freezing with a bitter cold freeze predicted for the next week where the weather wouldn't not get above freezing even during the day. I do not believe he was a feral kitten as he was too acclimated and friendly to humans which mean someone dumped him and I have nothing but the most bitter contempt to anyone that would do that to a helpless young animal. When we took him to the shelter he weighed 2 1/2 pounds but now he is growing big and chunky and now tips the scale at 11 pounds already and he won't be year old until the end of August.
Macavity: The Mystery Cat
T. S. Eliot
1888 –
1965
Macavity’s a Mystery Cat: he’s called the Hidden Paw—
For he’s the master criminal who can defy the Law.
He’s the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad’s despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime—Macavity’s not there!
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
He’s broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime—Macavity’s not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air—
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity’s not there!
Macavity’s a ginger cat, he’s very tall and thin;
You would know him if you saw him, for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined with thought, his head is highly domed;
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side, with movements like a snake;
And when you think he’s half asleep, he’s always wide awake.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
For he’s a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square—
But when a crime’s discovered, then Macavity’s not there!
He’s outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
And his footprints are not found in any file of Scotland Yard’s.
And when the larder’s looted, or the jewel-case is rifled,
Or when the milk is missing, or another Peke’s been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken, and the trellis past repair—
Ay, there’s the wonder of the thing! Macavity’s not there!
And when the Foreign Office find a Treaty’s gone astray,
Or the Admiralty lose some plans and drawings by the way,
There may be a scrap of paper in the hall or on the stair—
But it’s useless to investigate—Macavity’s not there!
And when the loss has been disclosed, the Secret Service say:
‘It must have been Macavity!’—but he’s a mile away.
You’ll be sure to find him resting, or a-licking of his thumbs;
Or engaged in doing complicated long division sums.
Macavity, Macavity, there’s no one like Macavity,
There never was a Cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare:
At whatever time the deed took place—MACAVITY WASN’T THERE!
And they say that all the Cats whose wicked deeds are widely known
(I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone)
Are nothing more than agents for the Cat who all the time
Just controls their operations: the Napoleon of Crime!
From Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats. Copyright © 1939 by T. S. Eliot,