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At the end of the month, we're driving Serenity (our motorhome) to Moab to take a family rafting trip on the Colorado River. Rather than leave Belle home alone for three days, we plan to take her with us. I bought a Kitty Holster harness & leash in bright green with reflective stripes. We've also got a cat carrier.
To get Belle ready for the trip, I've been getting her familiar with the carrier & harness and have been taking her out to spend time in Serenity. We've kept her indoors since we took her in and don't let her out. After harnessing her up a few times indoors, I took her outside to see how she'd do. I carried her down to the corrals to meet the horses and cattle, then to see the free ranging chickens & rabbits. She was on high alert but calm.
I took her back to the yard and set her down in the grass. She nibbled a couple of blades, then bolted through the open back door and into the house. I let her wander around the house a bit, then took her outside again. She again ran inside the house. I thought this was going well, so I took her outside for one last trial run. This time she bolted faster than I could follow, hit the end of the leash and twisted around and backed out of the harness before I could reel her in. She didn't run back into the house, but around the side, over the unmown grass in long, graceful leaps. I sat watching, thinking how beautiful and graceful she looked as she moved. She bounded around the front of the house and was gone.
I went to find her. She'd tried to get under the motorhome earlier that day and I hoped she'd taken shelter there. No such luck. Belle was in the wind. I grabbed a flashlight, her favorite wand toy and a bag of treats and combed the area for her. The property is on a farm with sheds, low barns, drainage pipes, thickets, old cars, abandoned threshers and a million other dark places for a cat to hide- or get trapped in. There are also foxes, coyotes, hawks and owls.
I printed up a bunch of flyers ("LOST CAT!! WE LOVE HER AND MISS HER!!! REWARD!!!!) and knocked on all the doors in the ritzy neighborhood across the street. (It's amazing how many homes there have the exact same doorbell ringtone! It's almost Stepford creepy.) It wasn't before the neighborhood kids were zooming about on bicycles & scooters clutching "LOST CAT" flyers in their hot little hands.
I left the doors to the house open in case Belle returned while I searched the farm. I searched brushpiles, outbuildings, ditches, gullies, the open fields, old cars, the chicken coop- I even went down to the pond to see if she was there. Nothing. No, I wasn't crying. My eyes were streaming tears because of all the pollen I kicked up tramping through the grasses, weeds, flowers & hay barn. Don't give me that look. It was allergies.
"Don't worry," the landlord said. "I'm sure she's still on the farm. She was out here for two months before getting trapped." Last summer, he put out a live trap because feral cats were after his chickens & rabbits. We took Belle in when she was caught.
When SWAMBO got home from work, I had to tell her I lost Belle. She wasn't happy, but instead of giving me the cussing I deserved and boxing my ears, she grabbed her flashlight and helped me search. We searched until sundown, then reluctantly went inside to eat. Well, I tried to eat.
After dinner, I went out & searched again. I walked the farm, searching until the flashlight dimmed, then swapped it for one in the charger. I swept the house each time to see if she snuck in while I was away, then went out to search again.
Once, I caught the glow of her eyes far across a field, hiding near the abandoned thresher. But she was gone before I could get to her. Too exhausted to search further, I set out plates of her favorite food that would lead her to the back door, which we left open for her and went to bed. It was almost 3 in the morning. As tired as I was, it seemed like a long time before I fell into a fitful asleep. I had strange dreams about facing execution in the temple of a bizarre cult somewhere deep in Asia. Just as the cultists were going to cut the tops of our skulls off, my wife shook me awake. It was 4:55 am. I'd only gotten a couple hours of sleep and I was groggy and the dream slow to fade. It took me a moment to figure out what my wife was telling me.
"Belle just came back! I gave her some food and she's in the kitchen eating."
I bolted from bed and had to force myself to not run to the kitchen. I was worried she'd still be frightened and skittish after a night of evading cunning foxes, marauding coyotes and silent as death owls. That was the worst- imagining an owl swooping down to carry Belle off, her lifeless body in its cruel talons.
I carefully peaked around the doorway. There was Belle, calmly eating at her dish as if nothing had happened.
Except when she was done eating, she demanded to be petted, something she rarely does and demanded to be petted for much longer than usual. I was happy to accommodate her and her scolding was affectionate.
I shouldn't have worried, I guess. She came back five minutes before my alarm was set to go off, knowing I'd soon wake up to fix her breakfast.
Damn cat!
To get Belle ready for the trip, I've been getting her familiar with the carrier & harness and have been taking her out to spend time in Serenity. We've kept her indoors since we took her in and don't let her out. After harnessing her up a few times indoors, I took her outside to see how she'd do. I carried her down to the corrals to meet the horses and cattle, then to see the free ranging chickens & rabbits. She was on high alert but calm.
I took her back to the yard and set her down in the grass. She nibbled a couple of blades, then bolted through the open back door and into the house. I let her wander around the house a bit, then took her outside again. She again ran inside the house. I thought this was going well, so I took her outside for one last trial run. This time she bolted faster than I could follow, hit the end of the leash and twisted around and backed out of the harness before I could reel her in. She didn't run back into the house, but around the side, over the unmown grass in long, graceful leaps. I sat watching, thinking how beautiful and graceful she looked as she moved. She bounded around the front of the house and was gone.
I went to find her. She'd tried to get under the motorhome earlier that day and I hoped she'd taken shelter there. No such luck. Belle was in the wind. I grabbed a flashlight, her favorite wand toy and a bag of treats and combed the area for her. The property is on a farm with sheds, low barns, drainage pipes, thickets, old cars, abandoned threshers and a million other dark places for a cat to hide- or get trapped in. There are also foxes, coyotes, hawks and owls.
I printed up a bunch of flyers ("LOST CAT!! WE LOVE HER AND MISS HER!!! REWARD!!!!) and knocked on all the doors in the ritzy neighborhood across the street. (It's amazing how many homes there have the exact same doorbell ringtone! It's almost Stepford creepy.) It wasn't before the neighborhood kids were zooming about on bicycles & scooters clutching "LOST CAT" flyers in their hot little hands.
I left the doors to the house open in case Belle returned while I searched the farm. I searched brushpiles, outbuildings, ditches, gullies, the open fields, old cars, the chicken coop- I even went down to the pond to see if she was there. Nothing. No, I wasn't crying. My eyes were streaming tears because of all the pollen I kicked up tramping through the grasses, weeds, flowers & hay barn. Don't give me that look. It was allergies.
"Don't worry," the landlord said. "I'm sure she's still on the farm. She was out here for two months before getting trapped." Last summer, he put out a live trap because feral cats were after his chickens & rabbits. We took Belle in when she was caught.
When SWAMBO got home from work, I had to tell her I lost Belle. She wasn't happy, but instead of giving me the cussing I deserved and boxing my ears, she grabbed her flashlight and helped me search. We searched until sundown, then reluctantly went inside to eat. Well, I tried to eat.
After dinner, I went out & searched again. I walked the farm, searching until the flashlight dimmed, then swapped it for one in the charger. I swept the house each time to see if she snuck in while I was away, then went out to search again.
Once, I caught the glow of her eyes far across a field, hiding near the abandoned thresher. But she was gone before I could get to her. Too exhausted to search further, I set out plates of her favorite food that would lead her to the back door, which we left open for her and went to bed. It was almost 3 in the morning. As tired as I was, it seemed like a long time before I fell into a fitful asleep. I had strange dreams about facing execution in the temple of a bizarre cult somewhere deep in Asia. Just as the cultists were going to cut the tops of our skulls off, my wife shook me awake. It was 4:55 am. I'd only gotten a couple hours of sleep and I was groggy and the dream slow to fade. It took me a moment to figure out what my wife was telling me.
"Belle just came back! I gave her some food and she's in the kitchen eating."
I bolted from bed and had to force myself to not run to the kitchen. I was worried she'd still be frightened and skittish after a night of evading cunning foxes, marauding coyotes and silent as death owls. That was the worst- imagining an owl swooping down to carry Belle off, her lifeless body in its cruel talons.
I carefully peaked around the doorway. There was Belle, calmly eating at her dish as if nothing had happened.
Except when she was done eating, she demanded to be petted, something she rarely does and demanded to be petted for much longer than usual. I was happy to accommodate her and her scolding was affectionate.
I shouldn't have worried, I guess. She came back five minutes before my alarm was set to go off, knowing I'd soon wake up to fix her breakfast.
Damn cat!