One thing kitties never miss is suppertime.
When mine didn’t show for supper—I knew something was wrong. Though he’s finicky and sometimes decides he doesn’t want chicken tonight, he wants salmon. And he will eventually show up and eat whatever chicken the black one didn’t.
But he didn’t show.
Well, I thought, he’s sleeping somewhere. Had the evening game. Signed off early with a headache. And started looking in his usual sleeping spots.
By nine, and no kitty, I was searching bedrooms, office, kitchen cabinets, and beginning to search outside—we’ve been letting the black one sit out in the ferret cage on the concrete, so he can roll and watch the birds and butterflies.
Jane had been to the store about mid-afternoon. We began to fear my rascal had gotten out. He is a housecat, has never set foot on dirt, well, not but once or twice, and has no senses about traffic (we live between two very busy 4-lane streets, buses, trucks, you name it)—and I’m not sure he has any homing instinct at all. If curiosity carried him out of sight of landmarks, he might not find his way home. He is chipped, but the chip registration expired a week ago.
By 10, Jane and I have searched upstairs and basement, called and called (he is not good about coming when he thinks he could be in trouble or that there might be a cat carrier involved or if he’s in a place he’s not sure he should be in or if it’s Tuesday and it’s raining…) And we followed the black one’s searches about the house, which began to convince us he was as confused and upset as we were.
At a certain point we left the front door open to the screen so if he came home he’d find a door, and us, and I made trips out to search the garden.
By about 11:30, after searching the back yard repeatedly, I decided to go out for one more search. Jane decided to make a try too. And I also checked, as I had previously, the aisle between the neighbor’s house and ours, through the gap in the gate. And I saw, just for a moment, a fleeting patch of white, as the rascal passed from neighbor’s house to our front yard. I called to Jane and headed out the gate and around. Jane went some direction or another, maybe through the house. And I spotted him—crouched on the path some thirty feet away, wild-eyed and not inclined to come. Nope. He darted past me, down the space between the houses, under the garden gate and in. Jane and I both followed. Jane opened the back door, and we hoped he’d go that way. Nope. Back to the equipment jungle at the back of the ell, where it’s darkest.
At that point, finally, he seemed to think he was in sort-of a ‘right place’ and might deign to come when called, maybe. If it felt right. I called, didn’t make a grab for him. He came right to my hand—-then decided it could be a ‘guilty place’ after all and dived past me. I nabbed a hind leg and a tail and flattened him so I could get a good grip, at which point he became ‘guilty kitty’ and tucked down as small as he could get. I gathered him up, this time with a good kitty-cuddling escape-proof grip, and hailed Jane that I had the escapee.
We took him inside. Oh, yes, glad to be back. Black one sniffs him over. He spends thirty minutes sitting where he can see us, but where he’s not quite in any ‘territory.’
Then evening snacks. OMG, he’s back. He spent the night where he usually does, sleeping right by me, and wanted to sleep in, this morning. I got him up anyway.
This morning, for breakfast, NEITHER cat seemed interested in sitting by the back door, while we ate on the patio.
Oh the hoops our kittehs put us through. I am so glad that yours came in after a relatively short time.
Our front door latch does not always work properly. Two weeks ago I went downstairs when Aloysius did not come with other kitts for his morning cookies and milk. There was the door wide open and as Aloysius is a master at opening screen and storm doors I knew he had gotten out. This time he stayed out for three days. He didn’t go too far, we could hear him at times; he just did not want to come in. Finally, when it started to rain he sat under the truck meowing pitifully. When we brought him inside, his whole attitude was, “Hey, what’s the big deal?” (The deal is that you made us into crazy people!)
The trouble is that our woods have become too wild for pets to be out. Years ago we let everyone roam to good effect! Since then there have been several housing developments in our area. There is a new one going in now. It seems to have displaced many of the critters that live there. Fortunately we back onto state forrest so eventually they will find places. But it is way too dangerous for kitties to be out in the wild. We have fishercats, coyotes, and we are pretty sure we saw bobcat tracks in the snow this winter.
Woodrow the Woodchuck is back living under the shed. As long as he stays away from the garden area he can stay. If Woodrow is Woodrina we are SOL!
We are going to be doing a lot of gardening in hanging baskets and tall planters this year. Red pepper powder and spray and chives are also in order!
My cat tries to make a break for the door occasionally, but we’ve got bald eagles. No bunnies in the area anymore, and you only see a squirrel if it’s running like hell for shelter. And the cat is white. No, kitty, don’t think so.
My name is Vanessa. My I’d is my initials. All four husbands. I thought it would be good if I Could be gay but the plumbing just didn’t work. My sister is. Worked for her, at least. But man, where are my kitties? I have found out since that two other kitties are missing up the road. I hate this. Who would take kitties? And why? So depressed. And do the cops do anything? Well I leave it to you to judge. I am keeping my remaining three safe inside. Though you guys seem to be a sorta world all by yourselves, and I am not so erudite, at least you care! And Tommy, I hope it’s going better for you than for me!
Cats are also prey, depending on your location. Several years ago I drew a bead with the 12Ga on a coyote in my back field that was one of a pair that I had seen take a local cat in said field. “Extreme prejudice.” 😉 Haven’t heard “midnight singing” much the last couple years. I’ve had several of the neighbor’s “boys” in my backyard after mice & voles, but not in months, and I’ve seen the flying undertaker circling the neighborhood a couple times in recent weeks.
We have found kitties take very well to being indoor-only. We have this 8 foot tall contraption of a cat tree that, if we keep them trim, our guys love to launch themselves at and from, and it’s by a window, where they can get sunbeams. We do travel with them—they like car rides, since we have persuaded them this does not involve vets. My dear old Ysabel would sing, particularly when we neared the turnoff to the apartment (she hated that place!) but after it was clear that was not the destination, she loved to travel. This pair is fond of it, too, and loves to play hide and seek in motel rooms. [I have a photo of a Motel 6 room with the mattresses standing on end and beds askew, the result of a search and carrier. [We did put it back.] But if you live where outside is just not safe—they can have an absolutely lovely life indoors, with plenty of exercise and total control (they like that) of their domain.
Even the Bengal? Though Kokomo seems to be doing ok. I am still just wrecked with the loss of the boys! It paints everything grey.
The half Bengal was born on a reservation and grew up to barely-weaned kittenhood eating elk meat (some was hanging) and romping in the woods with a passel of other cats, kittens, and dogs. When we brought him home, instead of crying endlessly, he gave not a mew, but curled himself up in Jane’s lap (a long drive) and slept. He is much more the homebody than that rascal Scottish Fold, who was the one who got out. As a matter of fact, since the episode of Sei going missing, he has avoided that door, and does not hover anxiously for a chance to get out…the smells Sei came home with may not have been to his liking. He’s a weird duck: coarse hair like a dog, strange flat set to the eyes, leopard spots under some spectra of light, growls at new people, and generally decides he wants to sit on your lap, and will growl and hiss if you put him off. If YOU pick him up, he’ll growl and hiss and decide maybe he wants down. His attack is different from other cats: he overtakes, envelops the target, ducks and rolls with it in his forearms, while biting. Ask Sei, who is the usual recipient of this play…which would not be play with an actual mouse, I’m sure. Poor Jane can’t use Bengay. She put some on and Shu came in, gave one sniff, and literally was on the curtain rod above the window in the next instant, hissing and snarling. We do not let strong smells near that cat.
There some stuff that I stumbled across years ago and can get locally at our town’s physical therapy office. But it is available on Amazon. Has capsacian, a lot of other natural ingredients and works like a dream. And is NOT stinky or have a harsh odor. You might want to give it a try. http://www.amazon.com/Sombra-Therapy-Natural-Relieving-8-Ounce/dp/B000WZOJCI
Yes, Shu is very deceptive…he’ll walk up to you as though he expects you to pet him….but be very careful…….that calm demeanor can hide a devious mind waiting to test out claws….well, I don’t know…he never tried to bite or claw me…..I was forewarned! 😀
Our old Snow-cat was the same; if we put something mentholated on after a big paintball day, it affected her like catnip does for other cats: drooling, rubbing on the smelly thing, biting. We had to use Tiger Balm for a while, because BenGay or IcyHot was a no-no.
Well, that was stoopid. I kicked a chair this morning and did a real number on my pinky toe. It is now a lovely shade of teal, and I have it taped to its neighbor. Grrr.
Definite ouch. It may be broken — it actually doesn’t take much with the pinky toes. That deep bloue effect is usually a good sigh you did, but the real tell is if it’s a very sharp pain when you walk about. I’ve had various pieces of furniture attack me over the years. I feel for you, believe me I do!
May be worth a doctor’s visit and Xray. A “Jones fracture” in that area is bloody hell! 🙁
But a really great cat,I know. The dog, bless her heart, just licks them all over. It’s pretty silly but I know they are bonded. And I am delighted to see it. And why not? Bonding is where it’s at. So I’m bonded to this stupid male but happy. Isn’t that what matters? But where are my cats, gossamer. And why is God dammit suddenly gossamer? Argh!
Oh, ow! I have never dislocated a toe, though I have tried on occasion. But it hurts. It hurts a lot!
I love my cats. Not so much stupid fix a word! Annoying, yes+
Yeah and that sucks. WHY do I now have to pay attention? I am used to striding through life. Why is it now I have to be afraid I’ll freaking fall?
Don’t dislocate the toe. It’ll take flipping weeks to heal!
And that sucks.
Wouldn’t I see them somewhere? These are smart cats! Dammit. Just to know…
Cats, especially males, seem to hit a teenaged period when they are prone to go walkabout. Even neutered ones. And sometimes even older ones. Spring hits, neighbor kitty in heat, and they just lose all good sense and go wandering off with the lady.
I’m glad the escapee has been recaptured, to his great relief no doubt.
My housemate and her predecessors manage to absent themselves for extended periods INSIDE the house, which is always a bit worrying. [Recapturing an out-of-bounds hedgehog without having to tear apart the entire place takes patience, cunning and an understanding of loopy hedgehog thought]