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conulyWe have two orange cats, our mama and her (getting to be huge) son. We have one calico who wasn't supposed to be outside, but who managed to come in the door yesterday morning in the rain.
I was so surprised at seeing her outside in the rain when I *knew* she was still being confined for that eye infection that I didn't really pay attention as I shooed the second orange cat inside. (We've given up keeping Sandy in the house. He's a bit of a ninja about getting out, and around the second time I saw him casually leap, from the floor, out a window that was only opened at the top for JUST THIS REASON I threw in the towel.) Two orange cats, one calico who was busy being picked up and snuggled poor DEAR and who was about to take her last dose of medicine.
I closed the door, and as soon as I did I and the cats all realized something: THIS CAT DID NOT BELONG. Instead of getting a somewhat large orange adolescent tom with a lot of white, I'd managed to get a fairly large cream-colored full-grown cat instead. Whoops!
Despite the fact that he'd just been palling around with my cats that morning, as soon as he got in Mama turned and hissed at him. And despite the fact that he's got to be twice her weight, he bolted. Immediately down into the basement. I followed him down and shooed him back towards the back door. Would he go out the door? NO, because I was there! Up the stairs and into my kitchen, where Mama firmly hissed him out again. NOW would he go out the door, or onto the back porch roof? No, I was still around somewhere! Into the attic! I went up and saw him carefully perched as high as he could be. I looked at him. He looked at me. I looked at him. He looked at me. I remembered that maybe it's not a good idea to stare scared animals right in the eye. He remembered the same thing and bolted as far from me as possible and into a closet.
I opened the back porch window, herded all my cats into my apartment, put out a little food for this cat (he seemed most scared of me, but really, all *I* wanted to do was a. feed him and b. get rid of him in some non-violent way) and locked the door so he couldn't get out of the attic/back hallway. I slipped back out and saw the cat going out the window! But as soon as he saw me he dashed back upstairs. *sighs* Time to go drop Eva up at school. Maybe he'd have more luck once he calmed down.
When I got home I found that Sandy had snuck out the pantry window and established the back hall as his. Visitor cat got the attic, which meant he wasn't able to get onto the back porch roof. Locked Sandy back into my apartment and, a few hours later, after closing every door in the attic and carefully picking up and dropping every. single. box in the closet in which he'd stashed himself (for a big cat he sure could make himself small!) managed to get that cat back down the stairs and on the back porch roof.
Now he was stuck one short story from the ground. In the drizzle. He couldn't get back in the house because I was standing at the window debating whether I should shoo him off with a broom or just close the window and assume he'd figure it out. "Boy, you are a stupid cat, aren't you?" At this insult he finally made the only sound I'd heard him make throughout this entire ordeal, a very pitiful growl. At least I think it was supposed to be a growl. That decided me. "I'm going to help you. You're not going to thank me, but I'm going to get you off this roof." I picked up the nearest broom and thrust it in his general direction. Cat jumped off and crouch-ran all the way out the yard and up the hill.
Poor thing.
And you know what? He came back and hung around all last night! Our cats are perfectly friendly with this one so long as he's not in the house, it seems.
So, yeah, that was *my* day. Now I want to get this cat and get it fixed. It can't be helping the gene pool that much.
I was so surprised at seeing her outside in the rain when I *knew* she was still being confined for that eye infection that I didn't really pay attention as I shooed the second orange cat inside. (We've given up keeping Sandy in the house. He's a bit of a ninja about getting out, and around the second time I saw him casually leap, from the floor, out a window that was only opened at the top for JUST THIS REASON I threw in the towel.) Two orange cats, one calico who was busy being picked up and snuggled poor DEAR and who was about to take her last dose of medicine.
I closed the door, and as soon as I did I and the cats all realized something: THIS CAT DID NOT BELONG. Instead of getting a somewhat large orange adolescent tom with a lot of white, I'd managed to get a fairly large cream-colored full-grown cat instead. Whoops!
Despite the fact that he'd just been palling around with my cats that morning, as soon as he got in Mama turned and hissed at him. And despite the fact that he's got to be twice her weight, he bolted. Immediately down into the basement. I followed him down and shooed him back towards the back door. Would he go out the door? NO, because I was there! Up the stairs and into my kitchen, where Mama firmly hissed him out again. NOW would he go out the door, or onto the back porch roof? No, I was still around somewhere! Into the attic! I went up and saw him carefully perched as high as he could be. I looked at him. He looked at me. I looked at him. He looked at me. I remembered that maybe it's not a good idea to stare scared animals right in the eye. He remembered the same thing and bolted as far from me as possible and into a closet.
I opened the back porch window, herded all my cats into my apartment, put out a little food for this cat (he seemed most scared of me, but really, all *I* wanted to do was a. feed him and b. get rid of him in some non-violent way) and locked the door so he couldn't get out of the attic/back hallway. I slipped back out and saw the cat going out the window! But as soon as he saw me he dashed back upstairs. *sighs* Time to go drop Eva up at school. Maybe he'd have more luck once he calmed down.
When I got home I found that Sandy had snuck out the pantry window and established the back hall as his. Visitor cat got the attic, which meant he wasn't able to get onto the back porch roof. Locked Sandy back into my apartment and, a few hours later, after closing every door in the attic and carefully picking up and dropping every. single. box in the closet in which he'd stashed himself (for a big cat he sure could make himself small!) managed to get that cat back down the stairs and on the back porch roof.
Now he was stuck one short story from the ground. In the drizzle. He couldn't get back in the house because I was standing at the window debating whether I should shoo him off with a broom or just close the window and assume he'd figure it out. "Boy, you are a stupid cat, aren't you?" At this insult he finally made the only sound I'd heard him make throughout this entire ordeal, a very pitiful growl. At least I think it was supposed to be a growl. That decided me. "I'm going to help you. You're not going to thank me, but I'm going to get you off this roof." I picked up the nearest broom and thrust it in his general direction. Cat jumped off and crouch-ran all the way out the yard and up the hill.
Poor thing.
And you know what? He came back and hung around all last night! Our cats are perfectly friendly with this one so long as he's not in the house, it seems.
So, yeah, that was *my* day. Now I want to get this cat and get it fixed. It can't be helping the gene pool that much.
