Winter Cometh, And That Right Early

I'm feeding a stray cat on the back porch (because of course I am).  She's a small cat with black and grey stripes and I think she may actually have a home, but she must not be getting her share of the kibble because when she comes over, she's always hungry.  I am constitutionally incapable of turning down a hungry cat, so she's getting the same food as my two, which is to say, The Good Stuff.   I call her Little Cat, because, well, she's not very big.  (And I'm not very creative about cat names.  The last stray I was feeding on the porch was called Orange Guy.) 

Grayson the Cat, who is a big boy, has been fascinated by Little Cat since she started showing up.  We open our back door in the morning, when it's cool, and there's a big security screen door between Grayson and Little Cat.  Still, he watches her very carefully when she's on the porch.  

Well, the other day, Grayson somehow managed to sneak out of the house while I was taking food out to Little Cat.  I'm still not sure how he did it.  He got away with it, though, because there's another gray cat in the neighborhood that looks shockingly like him.  So when I saw a gray cat outside with Little Cat, I thought, "Oh, it must be that grey guy."  I even watched the grey guy chase Little Cat around the yard.  It wasn't until later, when Grayson couldn't be found anywhere in the house, that I realized the grey cat outside might have been our grey guy.

So I went out back looking for Grayson.  I called, I shook a container full of treats.  I shone a flashlight around (it wasn't dark yet but it was getting that way).  I looked out front.  I looked around on the side.  And then I went back out back, where, after a few minutes, I heard somebody meowing.  I went further out and saw Grayson.

He was stuck between two fences.

At some point our neighbors, who thought this would be easier, I guess, put in another fence just outside of our fence.  So there are two fences running down our property line.  They can't be more than about six inches apart, but Grayson - who is just about six inches wide - was in between them.  The space was so narrow he couldn't even turn around, and apparently he couldn't go any further forward, either.  I went over to the fence and rather quickly figured out that if he climbed up the chain-link side, he'd be grabbable.  So I held some treats over his head to encourage him to climb.  

(Wouldn't this make a great Buddhist story?  A man gets stuck in a cave, can't go backward or forward, but suddenly realizes he can climb out if he looks a direction he never looked before?  Which just goes to show something or other?  I think it would make a great Buddhist story.)

So anyway, Grayson climbed up the fence until he was grabbable, and then I grabbed him and took him back into the house.  Mind you, I still wasn't sure I had the right grey cat.  They really do look a lot alike.  But when Artemis, our other cat, didn't immediately dive at him and try to kill him, I figured I must have the right cat.  Artemis is more territorial than Grayson, if that's possible.  And Grayson, who'd just had who knows what adventures, just stretched out on the coffee table and looked at us.  Not perturbed at all.  Also not perturbed at all was Little Cat, who showed back up the next morning for breakfast like nothing had happened.  And who knows?  Maybe nothing did.

Proof of cat.

Well, a cold front came through town, and temperatures dropped into the 70s.  Which is great when it's been in the 100s, but not so great if you've been doing all your swimming outdoors.  Which I have.  I've been swimming in a friend's pool during the week and going to Mallard Park at Lavon Lake on the weekends.  I got into the water at Mallard Park yesterday and it was noticeably colder.  Last time I got into a body of water and it was noticeably colder, it was the Pacific Ocean and the water temperature

had dropped from 70 to 55 overnight.  This wasn't that cold, but still, colder.  It's an ominous warning that winter is coming and that those of us who swim need to find a place inside, and as soon as possible.

Mallard Park. 

  

I am on a swim team, which has access to several great indoor pools around town, but we've been shut down since March.  My gym, which has reopened since Gov. Abbott (and Lou Costello) says that the coronavirus epidemic is over and everything is just peachy keen fine, has a pool, but I'm not sure how safe it is.  You know what I mean--lots of people in a small space, panting for breath, air circulating relentlessly--just because you can do it doesn't mean you should.  

By far the best choice would be the SMU pool.  I don't know if you've ever seen it, but the new indoor pool is the shining jewel in the crown of Dallas area indoor pools.  This pool is fifty meters long by fifty yards wide, there's a diving tower so you know the roof has to be thirty or forty feet above the pool, and, anyway, it's this huge indoor space.  Probably a lot safer than my gym pool.  The problem is, I don't know if it's open to people like me (nonstudent nonathletes), or even at all.  There's conflicting information on the Web and I haven't been able to get a human being on the phone. 

I mean, yes, we do have a treadmill, and yes, I make copious use of it, but it's still a treadmill and not a pool.  And swimming is one of the things that keeps me sane.  I know that sounds like an exaggeration but I promise it isn't.   

(It occurs to me I could take a class at SMU.  That might get me in the door.  Hm, so all I'll need is $2,355 per credit hour.  I'd pay it if I had it, though.)

So anyway, y'all, pray for hot temperatures in North Texas.  Or that I find a pool that's reasonably safe. Quick.  Thanks.  Cheers!