Cuddy, our drunken hobo cat, is back in the house.

He is called the “drunken hobo cat” because despite being raised since a kitten as a lovingly cared for house cat, this scroungy turd prefers to range like a feral stray all over the far corners of the farm during good weather (we find him sleeping in the weirdest places) and like a drunk, his behavior is entirely unpredictable—is he going to cuddle you, play bite your hand or ferociously attempt to disembowel you? You just never know with Cuddy…he gets in fights with other cats for no apparent reason all day, every day.

He got banned from the house last spring for being just awful. He had developed the demented urge to spray and mark on everything—both when indoors or out—it wasn’t a health issue, just a jerk face issue, and that is the one big “nope!” when it comes to animals in our home. And so he was forced to rejoin the barn cat clan for the end of the winter season.

And then late this summer I noticed he quit spraying neurotically while outside. 🤔 But still, we don’t need another cat in the house with PJ in here now. And Cuddy never wants in during nice weather anyway. 🤷‍♀️ He goes full hobo in the summer—refusing to come anywhere near the house as long as the weather holds.

And then it got cold.

And then it snowed.

And then Cuddy came to the house and meowed sadly at me.

He is 10 this year and looks every bit the part of a drunken hobo with his beat up ears and ratty, fight-worn fur…so a sad Cuddy is a sad cat indeed. So I snuck him in when it got really cold and let him secretly sleep in the spare bedroom, sure the husband would turn him back out based on his past bad behavior .

But then the second night of the real cold, it was the husband who let him in on purpose when the dogs came in. 😏

And now Cuddy is officially back to being a winter house cat in all his smelly, crusty, curmudgeonly old man glory.

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