In which my cat is still outside.

I’ve made a bit of progress on my displaced indoor cat.

I took the day off work and spent about two hours just walking all over the neighborhood with Purrion’s favorite tassel toy. Didn’t see any sign of the cat, but my neighbors two doors up said they’d seen a “black streak” get chased under their back deck by another cat. 

Eventually, I went down to the police station, and the ladies in Communications helped to connect me with Animal Control. They have lent me a humane trap and wildlife camera, which are now set up in my backyard. The shelter folks say it generally takes a cat going hungry for 2-3 weeks before it’s desperate enough to walk into a trap, and I hate the idea of my cat being outside for that long, but if that’s what it takes to get him back in my house, then I’m glad for the trap.

A bit earlier this afternoon, after doing a bit of housecleaning, I went outside again and…I saw my cat. 

Of course he’s still not home with me. He’ll let me see him in daylight, but he won’t come close enough to touch him.

He seems to like hanging out under the back deck at the house two doors up from me, so, yes, that “black streak” getting chased under there by another cat was probably my Purrion. That yard is where he seems to be hanging out for the time being. I’ve approached a couple of times, and I managed to engage him a little bit with his favorite tassel toy, but he’ll only interact with me a very little bit before he pulls away again.

Anyway, he looks healthy, I have a good point of reference for his location, and I feel better for having seen him. The neighbors in that house have seen him, so we’re on the same page. He’ll come back to my house when he’s ready.

Now I can’t help but think back to that conversation I had with Bill at AAA Emergency Tree Service, in which he told me to get on with my day rather than pay hundreds of dollars for one of their guys to come over and get him out of the tree.

In a limited sense, Bill was right, in that Purrion did eventually come down from the tree. Unfortunately, he’s still out of my hands two days later. I would have gladly paid several hundred dollars to have him brought down from the tree and into my house, rather than spend all this time trying to get him back. I don’t know how many more days it’ll take before Purrion comes home. I don’t know how much longer he’ll go hungry before he’s back inside. I don’t know what kind of shape he’ll be in when he reaches the point of coming back to me. Yes, I would have happily paid for him to be professionally de-treed after only a couple of hours, rather than let him stay out in the neighborhood for an undetermined number of days. I would have paid that much to correct my mistake.

The ladies in Communications at my local police station are awesome. The nice people at the animal shelter are awesome. The guy who picked up the phone at the tree service, however? Not so much.

I will not make that mistake again.

Don’t worry, this isn’t about politics. It’s not about Game of Thrones, either.

It’s about my cat. I did something stupid, he got away from me, and now he’s stuck out in the cold.

Purrion is an indoor kitty, and I made the mistake of taking him out to my backyard. I won’t try to justify this dim-witted idea of super-fun leash-training in my backyard, only that I did not anticipate his response. Short story shorter, he freaked the fuck out like I was trying to kill him, he escaped his harness, and he ran up my maple tree.

I guess his carrier is the better option after all. Lesson learned! Now where the fuck is my cat and how do I get him back into my warm house in one piece?

Continue reading