The Cats In (and Out of) our Lives

Yesterday's papers carried a wire story on Freddy, a cat that decided to stay behind in his rented quarters once his owners moved on.

Tonya Payne, the landlord, has tried every humane trick in the book to get Freddy to come out of his hiding place under the bathtub, but he's eluded capture for 12 days.

As I thought about this story, I realized that dogs give us unconditional love through their loyalty, and cats give us amazing stories to tell because of their territoriality. While I haven't had to contemplate removing a bathtub in order to get to a cat to safety, I have two stories that underline the bond cats have to their surroundings more than they have to their families.

Chatty Cathy was a tortoise shell cat that was so ugly when I first saw her in a pet shop that I knew no one in their right mind would adopt her and make a good home for her. So I did. When we moved houses five years after she'd been in our family, she decided we weren't worth the trouble. No matter how I tried, she found her way out of the new house and traveled the 12 blocks back to the old house on a consistent basis. One former neighbor despised her and wasted no time contacting me once Chatty Cathy was again perched on his roof. Another neighbor loved seeing her sun herself on their back deck each morning, so in the end, that's where she spent the rest of her days. When I would stop by for visits, she was always there to say hello, but never gave any indication that she wanted to be anywhere else but there.


Minnie

Minnie is also a tortoise shell that came to live with us in the new house once Chatty Cathy made it clear we weren't her thing. Maybe it's a trait with torties, but Minnie also has a fondness for high places, and after disappearing one mid-winter's day, I heard her cry out in my neighbor's roof. Of course, it happened at a time when my neighbors decided to take a relaxing vacation, so a long distance effort was underway to determine how to get Minnie out safely and keep some of their vacation experience in check as we talked about the various options for entering the house and releasing her before they were to return one week later.

There was no way to coax her out, because she had fallen into one of the steep gables of this beautiful tutor house and was stuck upside down. The Humane Society and the local Fire Department worked together to determine the best way to release her. The decision was to open the roof since the inside of the gable exposed numerous nails that would injure her if she was netted and brought out the way she came in. It was at this point that my neighbor's vacation with their family must have become much less fun. But permission was granted, and after numerous hacks to an otherwise fine shingle roof, I could see Minnie's fur. One of the firefighters pulled her out. And guess what she did? She wiggled her way free, and ran directly to the same opening in the roof to continue her hiding. Another hour went by before she was netted and placed in a carrier by the Humane Society.

Three years later, she is still somewhat famous on the block. People ask where the "roof cat" is - she caused quite a bit of excitement bringing a hook and ladder truck as well as the Humane Society transport truck to our quiet street. She was the lead story in our neighbor's next Christmas letter. And I still get the question, "You spent how much to make sure she was ok and make the repairs to your neighbor's house?" I'm just grateful that she was fine (there was worry of kidney damage if she'd been in there too long) and through lots of Godiva chocolate and other ploys, my neighbors still talk to me. When you're busting up someone's house, things can get a bit touchy. But instead, I have a happy ending and a good story.