Pop and "That Cat"

What is it about cats? They seem to gravitate toward those that want the least to do with them. We have a great domestic short hair that loves to annoy my dad. Pop's intolerance of cats goes way back partly to do with his allergies and partly due to upbringing. I believe my grandfather was a literal cat hater. Now I would not classify my dad as a cat hater but he definitely does not have furry friendly feelings toward them. He sort of tolerates them.

I remember him telling the story about his shooting out the sliding glass door trying to ping a cat that annoyed him and my mom every night. The story goes likes this. One afternoon my dad spotted the culprit wandering through their back yard. Pop called to my mom, "Myrn, get my bee bee gun, get my bee bee gun." With my dad fully armed he asked my mom to very quietly open the sliding glass door. Evidently she didn't open it wide enough, my dad's aim was off and after letting the bee bee fly, crash, down came the whole sliding glass door.

Tazzie our black furry friend, seems to know which chair is my dad's favorite and plunks himself right in that spot. Pop will go over to the chair and make some comment like, "That cat (he never calls him by name nor does he refer to his gender) is in the chair" prodding me to take care of the nuisance. Sometimes he will swat at the cat, never touching him, as if Tazz is contaminated and he doesn't dare have contact with the contaminant. I've seen him tip the kitchen chairs to dump the furry contents onto the floor.

Nearly every night, around the time that my dad is getting ready to settle down for his long winters nap, Tazz will sneak into my dad's room and crawl under the bed in his attempt to leave his allergens as close to Pop as possible. If my dad happens to see him go under the bed he will come out and alert my husband and me to the fact that, "That cat is under my bed." Occasionally though Tazz makes it into Pop's room undetected and is not found out until the rest of us are on our way to bed. On those occasions Tazz gets the last laugh. Not wanting to wake my dad up with our aerobic attempts to drag kitty out we will just leave well enough alone and crack my dad's bedroom door slightly so that the cat can get out when he is good and ready. Tazz always gets the last laugh. I think my dad has met his match in "That cat."