Cat on a Hot Car Roof

In “Anecdotal Tales”, stories will be told. Some will be fun, some will not. Some will be great, some will be less so. Some stories are true, some are merely possible. This is one of them.

Cat on a Hot Car Roof

“Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a good many ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.”  ~Joseph Wood Krutch

Max was a particular sort.  Only the best food would do.  The search for the friendliest person to visit with never ceased.  And, most importantly, Max needed the best resting spot he could find.

Maximus von Scratchyerface, as Max preferred to be called but never was, simply wanted the best of the best.  At thirteen years of age, Max felt that he had stuck around the world long enough and suffered plenty, so he wanted the luxury life for however long he had left.  Most people that saw this cat knew that he had plenty of his nine lives left, assuming he didn’t die from obesity.

When Max had been a kitten, he had been as adorable as could be.  A short-haired cat, Max had gray hair over almost the entirety of his body.  The exceptions were his paws, the tip of his tail, and just under his nose.  Everyone who came across this cat commented on how adorable he was with his little white “mittens” for feet.  The white spot under his chin silently demanded attention and all who attended the feline scratched him while he purred contentedly.  More than a decade later, the beginnings of a bald spot were developing on the under-side of Max’s jaw, but all were too polite to mention it in his presence.

Today, as was the case with every day, Max was tired.  The warm sun had been hiding all week.  Whenever he went to his typical sunbathing window, all he had been greeted by were grey clouds.  This morning, the rain had poured down in droves, hypnotically sending Max into a state of slumber.  That, however, was the morning.  It was now time for Max’s post afternoon-nap. 

Walking through his little swinging flap in the kitchen door, Max strolled through the neighborhood.  Across the street, he noticed a flash of movement.  Max hunkered down in the grass, his head just barely above the ground as his tail wiggled in excitement.  He thought he saw something he could catch, but instead he found an item that would make a promising napping spot.  Pulling into the drive across the street was a bright red sport convertible.

The man with the ponytail carefully closed the door on the sport car and hurried inside.  Max had seen this man before.  He often wondered why the man had a tail attached to the back of his head, especially when he was so follicle-challenged on the rest of his head.  Max would never understand how humans kept warm without the proper amount of hair.

Making sure that he wasn’t seen, Max slinked over to the car.  He had never perched on a sports car’s hood before.  He assumed it would be just as warm as any other car engine, but classier.  Max leaned on his back two legs, flipped his tail back once, then twice, and then he sprang up on the car’s hood.

Immediately, the searing heat attacked the pads on Max’s paws.  He hopped down onto the ground and hissed at the front bumper.  Max couldn’t believe the vehicle would be so hot, so inhospitable, to one such as him.  Looking around, Max found the perfect solution.

There, on a ditch that ran along the concrete, was a deep puddle.  All things considered, the hole in the ground didn’t hold much water.  However it did have plenty of what Max was looking for; mud.  Max dipped his paws in the wet earth and immediately felt better.  The car hood was warm, just as he liked it.  The temperature simply needed a mild adjustment.

It only took a few minutes worth of work.  Max’s feet were quickly coated in mud.  The distance between the ditch and the car was minimal, so Max was able to track substantial amounts of mud with him.  He hopped up on the car, jumping up and down to avoid burning his paws.  He felt the hood cool down, but not as much as he liked.  Max sauntered back over to the ditch and recovered his feet.  He spattered the mud on the hood and felt it becoming more agreeable.  A third trip and the hood was the perfect temperature.  The bright red hood was now resembled a sun-burnt Dalmatian as it consisted entirely of large brown blobs taking up over half of the formerly-gleaning surface. 

The important thing was that the engine was now the proper temperature.  Max settled down and began to get comfortable.  Unfortunately, all the mud that he had used to cool off the metal surface was now sticking to his fur.  He started to contemplate just how dirty this nap was going to get him. 

Then, from across the yard, Max heard a sound.  It was a sound that always cheered him up.  He could hear the can-opener in his kitchen going to work.  Max forgot his desire for sleep and headed back home.  He gave one last look to the car, gave it a bored expression, blinked, and ran off to eat supper. 

No harm done, the cat thought to himself.

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