Adventures in cat sitting

Wednesday, 12:57 pm

Apr

23

2008

I fully intended to post something yesterday, related to Earth Day, but life got in the way. By the time I was able to peruse the nets for the amazing quantity of “green” articles and earth day related stuff, I was too pooped to frame a coherent response. I’ll get to that later today, I think. But what took it out me yesterday was a missing cat—one of those I’m supposed to be cat sitting this week. Doesn’t it figure?

When I arrived at my cat sitting destination, the landlord was inside replacing the bathtub. There were boxes and plywood all over the place and a new bathtub propped up in a corner of the living room. And, there was a huge gaping hole in the bathroom floor. As it turned out, when the landlord started tearing things apart, he discovered some floor rot, so he ripped the entire floor out and went off to get some plywood sub-flooring. While he was gone, a cat disappeared.

As I walked in the front door, the landlord poked his head around the kitchen door and said, “I’ve lost a cat.” He was terribly worried. He didn’t know for sure whether the cat escaped out the front door while he was dragging the lumber in or what.

Oh boy.

First I looked under every stick of furniture in case the kitty was hiding. She wasn’t. We both spent considerable time outside wandering around the house calling “here kitty kitty kitty.” I knew that was a waste of effort because this was the cat who is terrified of anyone who isn’t family. The idea of the cat coming when she was called was laughable. But we thought we might be able to catch her if we could spot her. But no such luck. No kitty outside anywhere.

We came back inside and I was in the process of burying my head in my hands wondering how I was going to explain this when I heard a long, mournful “meooooow.” It wasn’t Starbuck who said it. But Starbuck was helpful. He trotted into the bathroom and peered down into the gaping hole in the floor. Of course! The scared kitty crawled down into the basement to get away from all the frightening noise and commotion.

Well, we were two relieved people.

The landlord showed me how to get into the basement and then handed a flashlight down through the gaping hole in the floor. I found the kitty easily enough, but getting her out of her hidey-hole was another matter. After spending the better part of an hour chasing the cat around and trying to haul her out of her various hiding spots (I have the scratches to show for it!), the landlord went out to his truck and fetched an old blanket. He tossed it down to me and I captured the cat. She is now, undoubtedly, permanently psychologically scarred. But I got her. And dragged the hissing, growling, writhing bundle of cat back upstairs and deposited her in a room with a door.

I waited while the landlord put the new sub-floor down. Once that hole in the floor was plugged, I opened the door to let the cat out. She came rocketing out and made a beeline for the bathroom. She was a little confused to find her escape hatch gone. She wheeled around and dived under the sofa where she was safe from all the upset. I imagine she is still there. I’ll check later. Starbuck, being the calm soul that he is, just sat in the middle of the living room floor with a bemused expression. I gave him extra scritches for being the hero, though.

As you might imagine, I’m rethinking this idea of cat-sitting. It’s exhausting. Not to mention that Abbie is mightily miffed that I reek of another cat. She gives that look as if to say, “Mama, how could you?!”