Okay, the secret's out. Natasha is actually my cat. I adore cats and I would have a whole houseful of them except for the fact that Natasha doesn't share my fondness for felines. She, in fact, hates cats. If one dares to set foot on our patio, she will race from window to door to window meowing loudly and hissing harshly. She is extremely brave and ferocious when there is window glass between her and the enemy. For this reason, we are a one cat household. I love her dearly and would hate for the acquisition of another pet to be seen by her as infidelity.
For some unknown reason, I awoke very early yesterday (before 6:00AM). Since Saturday is my usual day to do laundry, I saw the early hour as an opportunity to get that little chore done and be out and about, taking full advantage of a wonderful spring day. I live in a basement apartment, so the laundry room is just on the other side of a door in my kitchen. The washer and dryer are shared by me and a woman who lives upstairs with her teenage daughter. As I pushed open the door and proceeded through with my laundry basket, Natasha scampered along behind me. She often likes to explore that area when she gets the chance. What I hadn't noticed was the fact that the door at the top of the stairs had been left ajar. I watched in dismay as Natasha tore up the stairs and into our neighbor's kitchen. This was a bit of a dilemma. After all, I could hardly barge into someone else's home at this hour. All I could think of to do was to go back into my kitchen and get the container of catnip. This had worked before when Natasha had gotten out into the yard and refused to come in. The promise of catnip works wonders with her. So, I stood at the foot of the steps shaking my plastic container of catnip waiting for my kitty to appear. To my surprise, instead of Natasha, my neighbor, Kim peered around the door. As you can imagine, I felt like an idiot. I explained to Kim that Natasha was somewhere in her house. She looked to her left and assured me Natasha was fine and was enjoying the company of Kim's cat, Riley. Seeing this as a healthy experience, sort of a play date, I agreed to let Natasha stay and play with Riley.
Presently, the washer stopped and I dutifully transferred the wet wash into the dryer and turned it on. Then I shook the catnip container a few times to lure Natasha...to no avail. In 45 minutes, the dryer shut off and I carried the clean clothes back into my place. Once again I shook the catnip and once again got no response. So I got the container of "treats" and shook it. Again, nothing. I went back into my apartment and folded the laundry and put it away. Still no sign of Natasha so I called Kim on the telephone. She thought Natasha had left but invited me up to check for myself. It didn't take long to discover my errant cat hiding under the sofa in the living room. Evidently, there had been some sort of altercation between her and Riley as her ear was bleeding and she was obviously terrified. Warning! Never reach your hand under a couch to soothe a terrified cat. Fighting tooth and nail is a concept I now have way more respect for. Today, my right hand looks like I'm wearing a catcher's mitt. I believe the punctures on the back of my middle finger and on the webbing between my middle and index finger are toothmarks. The others, I'm pretty sure, are claw marks. Either way, we are both happy to be spending this splendid Sunday in our own apartment. One of us, I'm sure, will be reluctant to ever again visit the neighbors.
No comments:
Post a Comment