Remind me, again, why we keep feeding the Snurp

Snurp might be the worst cat we’ve ever owned. His latest? Leaping onto Chuck’s neck, digging his claws in, and chomping down.

Snurp does this at least once a day.

Sometimes Chuck, 100 pounds of canine who wants to be everyone’s buddy, yelps. But most of time, he just takes it, panting, suffering without a whimper, pleading with his eyes for the cat to be removed from his neck.

There’s more to Snurp than just being terrible, of course. He’s also fearless and stupid.

Take garage door chicken. When the garage door closes, Snurp waits till the door is inches from the ground before blasting under. It’s a fun game, unless Snurp doesn’t make it, which has happened, Snurp howling, me frantically pushing the button to make the door go up, me impressing the neighbors with the creative ways I take the Lord’s name in vain.

You’d think the cat would learn. You’d think that a garage door slamming into his back would make a lasting impression.

But it doesn’t. Time and again, the door inches down, and Snurp flicks his tail, and we know another last-second dash is imminent.

When we first brought Snurp home, I often fantasized about tying him to a tree next to the road with a sign that advertised, “Free Cat.” Sally, who was often attacked on the chin and nose in the dead of night, had her own dreams: “Can we feed Snurp to a coyote?” she asked.

But we didn’t give him up. We kept filling him up with kitten food and cleaning up the Tootsie Rolls he dropped in the dining room and tolerating him drinking toilet water.

I’m not sure why.

But I have to admit that we’ve kind of, sort of come around on ol’ Snurp. He’s affectionate for one, curling up with us every night and purring when he’s held.

Plus, he no longer attacks the humans, saving his aggression for his stuffed mouse, his dog Chuck, and his other dog—Wiley Bucket—who was chased across the yard with Snurp whacking at his tail just yesterday.

Plus, Eli loves Snurp. He proudly tells his friends: “This is Snurpy. He’s feisty.”

Our infant Slade is oblivious to the cat. Slade’s thing is ceiling fans. He lies on his back and coos and smiles while staring at those magical, whirling machines. The littlest dude just can’t get enough of them.

And here’s something else. Slade rolled over twice this very morning. Given his premature arrival, we know he’s at an elevated risk for all kinds of stuff. So I can’t help but exhale when the boy does what he’s supposed to do.

It’s what I want for Slade, for him to be healthy, to develop as he should, to find mystery in this world, even if that mystery right now is a fan turning in circles.

Addendum: Snurp just peed on the floor. Those nice things I wrote about him? I take them all back. Anybody want a cat? We have one with lots of personality.


2 Responses to “Remind me, again, why we keep feeding the Snurp”

  1. 1 Laura May 5, 2009 at 1:25 pm

    You do it because it builds character!

  1. 1 The next time someone asks. . . « Bad Chemicals Trackback on October 7, 2010 at 9:09 pm

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