As Promised

I believe that at some point I mentioned that Bandit was the smartest cat I've ever known, and I promised at least one story explaining why I say that.

I'll preface the story with a little background:  When my Dad retired in 1985 I was basically an unemployable layabout.  (I guess the modern term is "slacker.")  Therefore I moved where he did, to stay out of the rain.  To get me out from under foot he built a "guest house," where I stayed until I found gainful employment.  On returning from New Orleans to the job I have now (for another 498 days if I can hang on to it) I moved in there again, just until I could find a place.  Then everybody started telling me that my folks were getting older and I should stay close at hand.  So I did.  And that's where I was when my wife moved down here.

It's a small house.  The living room and kitchen are separated by a bar.  A short hall goes back to the bedrooms and bathroom, and there's a folding attic stair in the ceiling.  The bar was even with the right side of the hall, the back of the couch was even with the left.  Bandit could jump from the bar to the couch.  Her sister Sneaky, even though she was the more athletic of the two, never could.

But that's all background.

Once, I was doing something in the attic.  I don't remember what.  It seems like it was hot.   If you've ever been in a South Louisiana attic, you know what I mean.  Whatever I was doing, I decided to take a break.

Bandit, you can probably guess, being a smart cat, was curious.  I (as I'm sure you've figured out by now) am lazy.  When I took my break I didn't want to close and reopen the attic door.  I knew I had two cats downstairs, so I just folded the steps but left the door down.

So we have a third of a stairway sticking out of the ceiling, a little above and at an awkward angle to the bar.  Bandit goes to work.  You could see her sizing up the job.  You could see the wheels whirring in her little head. She got on the bar, and looked at the stairs.  I think she got on the couch, and looked at the stairs.  She got on the floor and sized up the jump.  She got back on the bar and looked it over again.  She made her decision.  She got back on the floor, you could see her making the calculations, and she just went for it.  She almost made it.  Given another chance she would have.

I closed the attic door.

Here is a picture of her taking a nap.  I think this is a little before we realized she was sick.

Anyway, I can retire in 498 days.