If you've seen the pictures of our yard, then you know how this little 1/2 acre of North Carolina must look through a cat's eyes. In a word: irresistible.
While we are not the sort to let our cats run free, especially in a county with leash laws and newly-enhanced animal control, we have been known to take the cats on what we affectionately refer to as "supervised prison yard walks". This means both of the humans take up posts in the yard, after boarding up or otherwise obstructing the most obvious escape spots, and let the kitties out in the fenced portion to nibble on grass and explore the interesting sights and scents.
Our cats never cease to amaze me with their ingenuity, and this move has taught us things about both of them that we didn't know before.
Case in point: MooMoo is a door darter. MooMoo stays close to the ground. MooMoo is not a climber, indoors or out. MooMoo is timid and something of a cry-baby, though not to be trifled with if you happen to annoy her, because she manages to put all of her 7 pounds into a swat. However, MooMoo also apparently reserves the right to break her own behavioral rules in order to climb 20 or 30 feet up into our willow tree. Twice, so far.
Once up in the tree, she cries inconsolably and climbs further out onto the slender branches in a sadly misguided effort to get down. Monte? Well, he sits at the base of the tree, watching her with a mixture of curiosity, amusement, disdain and bewilderment.
The first time, "daddy" met her halfway by climbing a good 7 or 8 feet up a ladder so she could come to him -- this after attempting to lure and coax her down for about an hour in every way we could imagine. Unlike MooMoo, we learn from our mistakes. The second time, we ignored her, wished her well, and figured she'd find a way to come down when she got hungry enough. Sure enough, she did. She hugged the tree and shimmied down tail-first, crying and scolding the whole way.
Monte, on the other hand, shows a very different brand of resourcefulness.
He's not a tiny, slender thing like MooMoo, so he doesn't climb trees and slip through fence slats with ease. He, however, climbs chain-link fences... much in the same way a human would, minus the benefits of opposable thumbs. It's rather remarkable to watch, if a bit distressing when you happen to want to keep him IN the yard and you are on the other end.Given their naturally opportunistic nature and the fact that no yard or human vigilance can keep a determined cat fenced indefinitely, the inevitable happened this past week. They both got out into the wild world... the how of it is a long story and hardly matters once the cats have scattered to the 4 winds. We tracked them at first, but we soon realized that there was no catching them and that our following only drove them further away. So, we retired to the house, leaving the doors open, and waited for hunger, a big frightening deer or the desire for a nice scratch to bring them back.
They returned long enough for capture a few hours later. We knew they were here when we heard cats growing and yowling. They had company -- a neighborhood cat that had decided to invade our cats' territory. Bad idea. Although the last fight Monte picked nearly cost him his life because of secondary infection, he fights to win. Even through his fever and post-surgical drug-induced fog, you could catch a glimmer of his "you should see the other cat"
satisfaction. Having seen his freshly-sharpened claws recently, I would not want to be the other cat. As for MooMoo, there is no alpha male of any size or description that she won't take on.Fight narrowly averted, Daniel marched them both inside, expressed his displeasure, and slammed the doors shut. Thus ended their first foray into the forest. We're sure this won't be the last... it's the way of cats and curiosity. However, we remain hopeful that curiosity will never finish its murderous work here.
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