Fat White: A History

I moved into this house in July 2003. Fat White appeared in my home, via the cat door, soon after. Apparently, he'd been around the neighborhood for a while. One neighbor called him "Glock" because his eyes are messed up and it looks like he has glaucoma. Another younger, more innocent neighbor called him "Snowball," and, indeed, he is round. I called him "Fat White" because he is fat and white.

Fat seems to have a special love for my tuxedo cat, Simon. Like you will see them walking down the street together, blocks from home. If Simon is rolling around in the street, Fat is there watching him. My neighbor, Paco, swears he saw them "KEES-ING" in the alley one day. (Bourre does not like Fat and will chase him out when she sees him. But she spends most of her time on the third floor so that doesn't happen often.)

While I think it's beautiful that Simon's found love, I can't help but be annoyed by FW. He invades my home on a daily basis. The minute you walk in from outside or come down from upstairs, you hear the familiar creak of the cat door and if you run to the window, Fat is usually sitting there with his back to the door, operating under the "I can't see you so you can't see me" theory. One time, he led my Dad and I on a merry chase up and down the stairs and into the basement. We ended up in the basement, no sign of him anywhere, and my Dad says, "Maybe we should look up." So we did, and it was like a slow motion scene in a horror film. There he was, in all his Fat White glory, amongst the ceiling pipes. Chilling.

Fat White and the other neighborhood strays seem to think I operate a 24-hour cat buffet. Fat goes the extra mile, though. Like he'll sleep on my black jacket or black suede boots, leaving them covered in white fur the next morning. He'll nestle down in the living room chair or the foot rest, leaving a white trail behind. I have even seen him on the second floor of my house, in the office. He was with Simon.

When we leave for NOLA, we're barricading the cat door so no cats can get in. This has multiple people worried about Fat's well-being while we're gone. I've got to say, I think Fat will be alright. After all, he is the fattest stray cat in existence. He has to be eating somewhere else.

But I'll probably build him a little sleeping shelter in the back before I go anyway. I am weak.