I had a rough weekend. Sold a pool table on Craig,s List, but it was more like an eBay transaction. While it was being loaded, Tikee got out, and was GONE!
She was strictly an inside kitty, although every once and a while we would let her into the garage. She never ventured more than a few feet from the garage door. She was a rescue cat--rescued from the jaws of none other than Jake, who viewed her as a chew toy.
Tikee was not phased by her near-death from a dog. Her and Jake became best buddies, and she frequently bathed his ears and snuggled up to him. Jake has his own private yard with multiple water buckets and his awn swimming pool. Tikee would wait for him by the door all day for him to be let into the house.
Tikee loved being the lapcat. A major much, she always slipped in a lick during the petting strokes.
I noticed she was gone later in the afternoon, when I fell asleep in the easy chair watching a golf tournament. I looked around the house, looking in each room in case she had slipped in to snoop and got shut in. No luck. I searched the garage, and called to her several times, again with no luck I hoped she just had a wild hair to explore the neighborhood and would be back in the garage in the morning. Nope. The next day, I walked the neighborhoods asking if anyone had seen here. The neighbor kids across the street said they saw her with the neighbor kids around the corner. The kids dad was a meth-head, and made it clear he did not appreciate me knocking on his door. The second night without Tikee seemed to cement the fact that she was probably either killed by a mean dog, or being held by some neighbor who thought she was a nice cat and intended to keep her.
This afternoon, I got a call from the guy who bought our pool table. He said this was an odd question, but were we missing a cat? I told him that in fact we were. He said that as he was leaving to get his oil changed in his car, he saw a cat run across his garage and jump into the pool table. A white cat with tabby patches? Yes. He said he would be gone for around an hour, and would call. I eagerly awaited his call. An hour and a half later he called and I made the short drive to his house. He opened the garage door and I called to her. I guess I thought she would hear my voice and come running to me jumping into my arms. No such luck. I looked in the couple of places where possibly a small cat could have squeezed in to the inner chambers underneath. No kitty. I looked into the holes with a flash light, and reached in as far as I could. Nothing. Then, I looked all around the garage but still nothing. The guy mentioned that his kids had came home from school and would have came in through the garage, and maybe she had ran out. I just had no idea where she might have went. While she is a sweet cat, she was most likely too dumb to find her way home. I thanked him for calling, and asked him to keep an eye out for her. Then I left and slowly drove the neighborhood calling to her. Just a few minutes later, they called me back saying she WAS in the pool table and to come back. Good news.
When I got back, she was poking her head out of the opening where the coin slot mechanism was in the side of the table. I petted her, but it did not seem like she could squeeze through. Then, she disappeared. On the end of the table, there was another opening. The other side of the table had a large hollow inner chamber. I could not see in there with the flashlight, but an iPhone pic showed me her spacious hiding place.
I tried calling her, coaxing her with tuna, enticing her with a string, and the new pool table owner tried spraying a small stream of water on her, jacking the table up to 45°, pounding on the sides, blowing a leaf blower down the corner pocket--all with no luck. After a while, Tikee came back over to the coin slot hole, and I had her by the nap of the neck, but could not pull her through. Finally, we took the metal trim off the edge of the table, and then unscrewed the bumpers. That enabled us to lift off the slate top. but it was OMG so heavy. Once off, and slid over, we retrieved Miss Tikee. She was whisked off to my car (running and air conditioned.) I helped get the mega-heavy slate top put back in place, and Tikee and I headed for home.
Sassy and Scooter were indifferent about her return. Jake seemed glad to see her. Now that she has been home, Tikee seems a little more like herself. I am sure she was quite dehydrated, and overheated, since she mostly sits around and enjoys the air conditioning.
But she may be a little pissed because we sold her private playground.
She was strictly an inside kitty, although every once and a while we would let her into the garage. She never ventured more than a few feet from the garage door. She was a rescue cat--rescued from the jaws of none other than Jake, who viewed her as a chew toy.
Tikee was not phased by her near-death from a dog. Her and Jake became best buddies, and she frequently bathed his ears and snuggled up to him. Jake has his own private yard with multiple water buckets and his awn swimming pool. Tikee would wait for him by the door all day for him to be let into the house.
Tikee loved being the lapcat. A major much, she always slipped in a lick during the petting strokes.
I noticed she was gone later in the afternoon, when I fell asleep in the easy chair watching a golf tournament. I looked around the house, looking in each room in case she had slipped in to snoop and got shut in. No luck. I searched the garage, and called to her several times, again with no luck I hoped she just had a wild hair to explore the neighborhood and would be back in the garage in the morning. Nope. The next day, I walked the neighborhoods asking if anyone had seen here. The neighbor kids across the street said they saw her with the neighbor kids around the corner. The kids dad was a meth-head, and made it clear he did not appreciate me knocking on his door. The second night without Tikee seemed to cement the fact that she was probably either killed by a mean dog, or being held by some neighbor who thought she was a nice cat and intended to keep her.
This afternoon, I got a call from the guy who bought our pool table. He said this was an odd question, but were we missing a cat? I told him that in fact we were. He said that as he was leaving to get his oil changed in his car, he saw a cat run across his garage and jump into the pool table. A white cat with tabby patches? Yes. He said he would be gone for around an hour, and would call. I eagerly awaited his call. An hour and a half later he called and I made the short drive to his house. He opened the garage door and I called to her. I guess I thought she would hear my voice and come running to me jumping into my arms. No such luck. I looked in the couple of places where possibly a small cat could have squeezed in to the inner chambers underneath. No kitty. I looked into the holes with a flash light, and reached in as far as I could. Nothing. Then, I looked all around the garage but still nothing. The guy mentioned that his kids had came home from school and would have came in through the garage, and maybe she had ran out. I just had no idea where she might have went. While she is a sweet cat, she was most likely too dumb to find her way home. I thanked him for calling, and asked him to keep an eye out for her. Then I left and slowly drove the neighborhood calling to her. Just a few minutes later, they called me back saying she WAS in the pool table and to come back. Good news.
When I got back, she was poking her head out of the opening where the coin slot mechanism was in the side of the table. I petted her, but it did not seem like she could squeeze through. Then, she disappeared. On the end of the table, there was another opening. The other side of the table had a large hollow inner chamber. I could not see in there with the flashlight, but an iPhone pic showed me her spacious hiding place.
I tried calling her, coaxing her with tuna, enticing her with a string, and the new pool table owner tried spraying a small stream of water on her, jacking the table up to 45°, pounding on the sides, blowing a leaf blower down the corner pocket--all with no luck. After a while, Tikee came back over to the coin slot hole, and I had her by the nap of the neck, but could not pull her through. Finally, we took the metal trim off the edge of the table, and then unscrewed the bumpers. That enabled us to lift off the slate top. but it was OMG so heavy. Once off, and slid over, we retrieved Miss Tikee. She was whisked off to my car (running and air conditioned.) I helped get the mega-heavy slate top put back in place, and Tikee and I headed for home.
Sassy and Scooter were indifferent about her return. Jake seemed glad to see her. Now that she has been home, Tikee seems a little more like herself. I am sure she was quite dehydrated, and overheated, since she mostly sits around and enjoys the air conditioning.
But she may be a little pissed because we sold her private playground.
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