Caturday: Escaperon

Perch has had many years to perfect the art of door dashing.  He’s gotten locked in the bathroom on numerous occasions, and gets out the front and back doors at least a couple of time a year. These escapes are usually short lived as he is nabbed and returned to the house in short order.  The key word in that last sentence was “usually.”

A few weeks ago my mom was over, waiting for a large and pricey package of mine to be delivered.  Once it had come she left and made her way home.  Unbeknownst to her Ninja Cat slipped out the door with her.  There he was standing on the front porch with all the freedom the world had to offer, and I wasn’t going to be home for HOURS.

I don’t know what happened in the hours between his escape and my returning home, but whatever it was didn’t play well with his immediate mental health. I came home and found him cowering in the bamboo packed planter in front of the porch.  At first I thought it was him, and then when I reached for him and he snarled, hissed and swiped at me I had to take a second look to make sure it actually WAS him!  Maybe I’d just found a lookalike cat who didn’t know me from the local violin string maker.  Nope it was definitely Perch, so I reached for him again, which was when he lacerated my hand.

I’ll spare those who don’t do gore, but if you want to see what a pissed off cat can do to a hand in a few seconds look no further than here.  OK, so freaked out cat who needs to be brought back inside, solution, heavy leather gloves.  Problem was (is, and will probably be for the rest of my life) I’m not exactly the most organized of people and had no idea where I’d stashed the damn things.  It was entirely possible that I’d left them in the back yard and the dogs had eaten them, again.  So a quick search of the house revealing no gloves I switch to plan B, a towel.

Walking back to the porch I was imagining the same dramatic battle you are; me, towel in hand, trying to nab a scared and well armed animal, more hissing, growling, and possibly more bleeding.  The truth of it was when I opened the door Perch was standing at it.  He growled at the cats inside who’d come to investigate but I deftly stepped behind him and used the towel…to shoo him back inside!  In he went and from there I was able to pick him up and put him in the back room by himself for a while to chill the hell out.

As I said that was several weeks ago.  He has had not outings since then, but he has been seen eyeing the door in an envious manner.  For the moment however, he’s a safely indoor cat who is totally himself again.

Caturday: Escaperon

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