Ginger is a giant orange tom cat who adopted my friends Shannon and Scott.

Me: “But why is HIS name Ginger?”

Shan: “You know, like HA HA HA look that guy he is a ginger?”

Me: “Oh my gawd, I totally get it. HA HA HA!”

Until I sat for him recently, I had only heard about him. One day, Shan asked me if I could stop over on a Sunday morning and let Ginger in so he could eat.

Me: “Why would I let Ginger IN? Does he party all night? Is he in a band?”

Shan: “Ha! No. We found he prefers to be outside at night then he makes his way back in the morning to eat and nap.”

Me: “Cool cat!”

The day after I agree to babysit Ginger Shan brings me a bottle of wine and directions on caring for Ginger along with pictures of the cat. Let me preface what I’m about to say next by pointing out that Ginger hit the jackpot with Shannon and Scott. He is the most loved and cared for alley cat I’ve ever encountered. I also hit the jackpot because I got a bottle of cab for letting a cat in the house. SCORE!

The directions provided me with possible places I should check for Ginger if he hasn’t shown up to eat on Sunday morning: a) under a car b) in a bush c) close by but not technically visible

The directions then provided me with strategies to lure Ginger into their apartment: a) Call out his name b) shake his bag of catnip he can’t resist c) Crawl under the neighbors car and get him

I woke up on Sunday morning and took my time getting ready for brunch in north county.

Larry: “Isn’t there something you were supposed to do this morning?”

Me: “I know, right? I feel like there’s something too.”

Larry: “Yea. Oh well.”

Me: “Oh crap! We gotta go find Ginger!”

Larry and I raced over and I’m reading the directions like bossing Larry around like, “Okay, I’ll go under the car and you go in and get the cat nip bag.”

I’m still reading the instructions as we round the corner.

Larry: “I found Ginger.”

Ginger: “Meow! Meow! Meow!”

In all his fiery red headed tom cat glory, there was Ginger on the top stair singing for his supper (err breakfast).

Me: “Crisis averted! Let’s get this cat fed!”

As Ginger eats breakfast I re-review my instructions not wanting to let Shan or Scott or Ginger down. They read, “After Ginger eats he likes to play with his blue toy on a string. He also loves it when you put down some cat nip by his scratching post.”

Larry grabs the blue toy which Ginger could care less about while I get him his cat nip. We both proceed to die of laughter as the cat saunters over an snorts a line of cat nip before wandering off for his nap.

Me: “Oh to be Shan and Scott’s cat. It is the best!”

Larry: “Good, Han. Can we go now?”