As the leaves start to change color, the birds start thinking about flying to warmer climates and the feral cats of Geneseo retreat to wherever the hell they live during the winter, there are a few questions on everyone's mind.
What should I be for Halloween? Will I have enough warm clothing to last me until November break? Should I be concerned about the huge number of seagulls that are slowly invading the north side of campus?
These were all things on my mind as I munched pensively on the remains of my sandwich, trying to forget the paper I had yet to write and watching people sprint to the dining hall in an attempt to avoid zombies that had been hiding around the quad. I was eating with my suitemates at a picnic table and lost deep in thought when a furry antagonist in the form of a small calico cat approached us.
Cats have been surviving on their own for quite a while, but the ability to melt a human heart with a subtle purr and bashful leg rub definitely has its advantages for a wild animal.
In an attempt to try to avoid any repercussions the following story might have, portions of this story will be written about things that we didn't do, since we're 19- to 20-year-old males and therefore always act responsibly. We may or may not have fed the cat pieces of breaded chicken, but we most certainly did not feel any form of sympathy for it.
Forget that this feline could grow up to be the next Pawblo Picasso, Frida Kahlico or even Meownardo da Vinci, this cat was barking up the wrong tree. So obviously we had no problem leaving the mewling baby cat to roam alone in the chilly weather, since animals are not allowed in residence halls, and no further trouble arose. Thank goodness!
As a warning to anyone who thinks it's a good idea to give shelter a killing machine in the guise of a kitten, don't. If you do, take the necessary precautions, such as wearing shoes and shin guards at all times and not owning anything that you don't want to see torn into tiny pieces.
After roughly 25 minutes of not sheltering the cat, we were not cowering behind the futon watching the cat carefully untangling the leg hair which had somehow gotten wrapped around its surprisingly jagged claws, and we were certainly not regretting the decision we hadn't made.
After not pursuing the cat from room to room for a bit, we were finally able to get it back outside. For some reason, I still felt like a good person afterward even though we tried and failed to help the cat. While we might not have actually helped it at all, I'd like to think that we proved that college guys are about much more than just chasing tail.