What a story I have for you today. I was all ready to go for my walk with N this morning (and Riley) but had a few minutes so I went up into the attic to look for the cute little metal table I bought last July. I had it next to my outside chair to hold my beverage.
The attic is a complete "man made" mess. Piles of crap. I couldn't even get to the pile of outdoor chairs and when I climbed over to it, no table.
But------ the tiniest little meow. From behind the workshop door.
I ran down the stairs and up into the workshop part of the garage and there was a tiny cat looking down at me. Riley barked and the cat scrambled back up into the workshop. No time to try and find it--time for our walk. So when I got to N's house I mentioned the cat in the attic.
We walked. Talked. Laughed. Riley sniffed, peed and pooped.
Got back to N's house and her husband comes over to say there's a missing cat in the neighborhood, my next door neighbor's cat, and N's husband had called to tell them it was in my garage.
The neighbor came over, we climbed up into the attic, over insulation batts, sawdust, styrofoam, wood and machines but no cat. Neighbor left. I was so sad. And worried. Had the kitty gotten out when I opened the garage doors? He was an indoors only cat so had no street smarts. Only one year old. And there is a lot of danger in our woods.
I went back upstairs and sat on the step, worried and there he was, in the most inaccessable part of the attic. I would have needed a ladder (very tall) balanced on the stairs to even reach where he was hiding. I could just see his ears. I called the neighbor to say the cat was safe.
I spooned some fragrant Mexican casserole on a plate. When trying to gain the attention of a lost animal, stinky food works best to bait the trap. And once the neighbor arrived to catch the cat if he ran past me, I began to dig my way through boxes, batts and debris to the cat. The long way around. I placed the Mexican food where the cat could smell it. He's been somewhere and possibly in my attic, since July 4th. He approached the food.
And then I grabbed his collar and it was the snap off kind. So I had to make a really calm grab for him and he wasn't liking it at all. His claws were grabbing at every thing we passed as I crawled backwards out the narrow opening I had made.
He was safely returned to his owner (and to three year old Hazel) and will probably not open the window screen and escape ever again. Or if he does, I hope he comes back here to my garage and stays away from the fisher. And the coyotes. And the porcupines. And the raccoons. And the deer.
Going into the woods isn't something little cats with bells on their collars should do.
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