Texas Roadhouse Cat

Tonight was a nice dinner with friends at Texas Roadhouse.  Later we were sitting on benches outside of the restaurant talking.  Eventually a stray cat joined us.

She was still sort of a kitten and she roamed around us, but wouldn't let anyone touch her.  I considered taking her home.  We don't have a pet.  Now that I have kids, I'm really okay not taking care of a pet.  But I thought I'd make an exception for this skinny, young cat and if she'd have me, I'd rescue her and take her home.  So I contemplated if I could somehow get her home;  everyone else suggested I give her some of my leftover food.  I realized this in the middle of my contemplation and felt guilty that I had so quickly dismissed giving this cat my expensive people food--I mean, come on, it was steak! 

So though I can't say I was really excited to do it, I took the steak out of the box, bit a big chunk off of it--the last I would enjoy--and set the rest on the sidewalk for the cat.  Right away, it dug into the piece of meat.  It bit at it so ravenously that I felt guilty for the big bite in my own mouth.

I had thought that perhaps offering the food to the cat would it make it friendly enough that I could get it into my car.  But really, I didn't want to touch this cat while it was eating.  As it was, halfway through her steak she picked it up and took off through the bushes.

"Bye, Roadhouse," we said.  And, "Bye, girls," we said.  And everyone went to their cars and drove away.

*And now the continuation of the story for my friends that met Roadhouse cat...*

I climbed into my van, tossed my hoodie into the passenger seat, and realized that I could have tried to capture Roadhouse cat with my hoodie.  I could have tossed the jacket over her, avoiding teeth and claws, and got her into my van.  Maybe.

So I drove around to the back of the restaurant to see if she was hiding in the bushes.  As I turned behind the restaurant the first thing I noticed was what appeared to be a dead cat stretched across the roof of a car.  A blue car was parked directly under a streetlight and bathed in this bright light was what appeared to be a dead cat stretched and saggy, lying on the roof of this car.  As the van neared, I saw that its eyes were staring, wide and eery.  I sat a moment longer and eventually made out a quick rise and fall on the cat's stomach.  It was not dead.  It appeared to have different markings than Roadhouse cat, but looked about the same age and I wondered if they were litter mates.

I continued to drive my car in a small circle until my headlights illuminated the bushes that I thought might contain Roadhouse cat.  I got out of the car and looked quickly, but saw no sign of the animal.  It seemed she was long gone with her dinner.

I decided to drive back over to what I now thought was a heavily pregnant cat, perhaps about to give birth.  But this time as my van approached, this second cat jumped up.  And as she began to walk down the blue car's windshield, she began to throw up.  With great, wrenching gags this cat threw up giant chunks of steak across the hood of some poor Texas Roadhouse employee's car.  This was Roadhouse cat.  I hadn't seen her in such bright light before and hadn't realized she had some striping around her face.

Needless to say, she still didn't allow herself to come home with me, but took off in the opposite direction.  I don't feel guilty about eating that last bite of steak anymore.  I do feel a little bad that I fed a ravenously hungry cat a meal that made it empty its already empty stomach.  I also feel a little bad that I inadvertently covered the hood of someone's car with big, cat-vomity pieces of meat.  I also can't help but laugh off and on, though.  I mean, sometimes stuff like that happens to cars.  Sometimes you get off work from a night serving at some restaurant and there is disgusting crap all over your car.  And you have no idea why.

And it just so happens that tonight, I know why.