Ruh-Roh, R-astro!

I feel fortunate in our neck of the woods that Winter Storm Astro has trotted off to greener pastures, leaving ours mostly green. Although since his departure, the Mercury has dropped like a planet in the Jetsons' neighborhood.

Right now it is 22 degrees and feels like 12. I believe it was actually only 12 or 14 this morning. Another reason for me not to like Astro. I mean Rastro.

I'm sure the cartoon dog was fine, but some 20 years ago I had an evil cat I was going to name Astro. But since I had to have it be an "R" name to fit with family tradition, I named it Rastro. I think it was a boy cat but I guess its aggressiveness wasn't a dead giveaway. After all, it is only a "cat fight" when women fight!

Why was he evil?

Well, first he had abandonment issues. The only reason I had him was that he was given to me by the guys at the fire department who assured me (wink, wink) they would find a home for him in no time. What young, single woman doesn't want a cat?

Me.

While I remembered some of our barn cats while growing up, I realized they were only cuddly as kittens. Then, as barn cats have to be, they were a bit wild and predatory.

Rastro was born to be a barn cat. Not a "stay inside Robyn's little apartment all day while I she chases down news stories" kind of cat. So she or he took it out on me at night by chewing my hair. All. Night. Long. I couldn't get any sleep! Don't cats sleep 22 hours a day? Thank goodness Sylvester is nothing like this.

Rasto also took it out on visitors. Literally took it out -- like biting off a chunk of skin! I remember one time I had two college girlfriends staying over and he just waltzed up to one, unprovoked, and bit her leg. Evil!

Probably the worst thing he did was lock himself in the bathroom one day, which caused a chain of embarrassing events...

I'm sure I've shared this story before. I usually kept the bathroom closed so he wouldn't mess with the toilet paper roll. But that morning he must have sneaked in before I closed it. Then jumped up at the door handle and turned the lock, which was an old-fashioned knob that didn't take much to turn. I had stopped home in the afternoon because I was going to be covering a dinner that night (writing a story about it) since the governor was going to be in town and attending.

I had no luck opening that bathroom door and no key existed. I lived on the second floor. I borrowed a ladder from the old guy next door and was going to go through the bathroom window. But you know that heights thing I mentioned yesterday? That started young. Could not get on that little part of roof and try to get in that window.

So I did what every other single, young woman with a cat would do. I called the fire department. It was their fault indirectly since they forced the cat on me, right? I told the guys to just come with a better ladder. And quietly.

But no, they came with the sirens on and in a real fire truck. Let's call attention to this helpless female!

They did manage to get through that window and get the door unlocked. Rastro had peed on the floor and was hungry, but he did not mess with that toilet paper roll! While the firefighters were there, though, they noticed an odor. It wasn't the cat!

Turns out I had a gas leak. So then it was waiting for the gas guy to come... all the while, I was checking my watch because I needed to get to that governor's dinner! By the time they came and fixed the leak, it was too late.

Thankfully, my boss accepted my excuse though she had to wonder what I was on! And thankfully, Tommy T. ended up being a no-show that night so I didn't miss the story.

I suppose I should say thankfully, Rastro locked himself in the bathroom so he could essentially save my life. But I just couldn't bring myself to love him. It was none too soon when I found him a home on a farm.

Just like the winter storm, I was eager to see him move on.

I guess I'm catty that way.

Ruh-roh!