Cool for Cats

Cold as ice cream, but still as sweet

Jesus Christ -- someone call Cat Protective Services on me, stat! Larry just turned 4 months old on Thursday and he's already gone through 3 of his 9 lives. I spared telling you all about how he (suddenly) figured out how to jump on top of the stove and accidentally turned one of the (gas) burners on (by the grace of God I was standing there when it happened, and I've since removed the knobs). Then he (somehow) managed to jump up on the toilet seat (completely unbeknownst to me) as I was sitting down to do my business the other night and I nearly drowned him. Imagine my surprise when this crazed wet kitten started flinging himself around in the toilet bowl underneath me. I'd always heard those wives' tales about rats coming up through the sewers and I nearly had a heart attack. (Maybe better to put this in my Used Lives column.)

Which brings us to yesterday. Around 1:55 p.m. I left to meet Michael for lunch at Cosi on Sixth Avenue. Afterward I followed my usual routine of getting the Daily News and the Post and reading them over coffee at Starbucks. From there I stopped at the Post Office to pick up a package they were holding for me. At about a quarter after 4 I returned home. Normally when I open the door Larry goes tearing out into the hallway (after 13 years with Troy, I'd forgotten that everything's a game when you're a kitten). But this time, instead, I heard a very weak and disturbing meow in the distance. After hunting around everywhere for my critter I realized the sound was coming from inside the refrigerator -- where Larry had now been trapped for more than 2 hours. I about crapped my pants as I flung the door open to see if he was actually alive. At first he was too stiff to even jump out -- but what was even more upsetting is when I grabbed him his front paws were all matted and this freaky orange color (I thought they were about to self-amputate). I was so panicked that I must have been screaming and the old lady who lives upstairs came running down yelling, "Is something wrong with Troy???" (She was trying to be helpful, which I appreciated.) I wrapped Larry in a blanket and quickly got my vet on the phone and asked him what he thought I should do, but before Dr. Nguyen could even answer Lar began to bop around the apartment as if nothing had happened at all. Upon closer inspection I realized I'd left a half-empty glass (or was it half-full?) of Pineapple-Orange Crystal Light in the fridge and that's all that was wrong with Larry's paws -- he'd spilled it trying to break freeze from the ice box.

Michael kept an eye on him after I left for work and as the night went on I came to realize that A.) Kids die in refrigerators left on the sidewalk because they get trapped in them and run out of air. Mine was always on so there was no danger of that, and B.) The temperature inside my fridge is probably around 38 to 40 degrees. Horribly unpleasant, yes. But unlikely to "freeze" a mammal to death -- even if I hadn't gotten home until, say, after work. I asked my cat-crazed boss if he thought Larry would remember what had happened and be traumatized by it. Ray said it was unlikely, but that perhaps my four-legged friend would (finally) stay out of the refrigerator. But as you can see from these photos, Curious Larry has picked up right where he left off, knowing full well that he's still got (at least) six lives (depending on your count) just waiting to be used, and he's not about to let anything get in the way of his "fun" ...