Kitty Littering

Our cats live a fairly comfortable life in the garage. They have 350 square feet to call their own, a constant supply of food and water, and padded physiques to show for it. But for the last couple of months their food supply has been compromised by the marauding activities of a feral feline.

This new kid on the block was all black, and therefore not easily distinguishable from our very own Pitch. The easiest way to tell them apart was to open the back door - if it ran away, it wasn't Pitch. Unfortunately, by then the food was usually gone and it was too late to do anything about it. The amount of food that animal could consume in such a little time was as amazing as the speed at which he could move with what must have been a very full stomach! So many times we'd be half a step out the back door, only to see his tail disappearing around the far corner of the garage, and would find not a trace of the food that should have fed our cats for two days! And each time our frustration and irritation and resentment grew.

I discovered that one of his hide-outs was under our front porch, so I closed that hole. I stalked him in the grass, I hunted him in the shed, and I threw rocks at him whenever I could get a clear shot (but when I did I had to be quick). All of our attention was focused on persuading him that he shouldn't come around here any more. However, when the object of your persuasive efforts is a cat, it's very hard to compete with a full dish of cat food. The key, we found, was to become smarter than the cat.

And we also changed our strategy. Instead of convincing him to leave, we would force him to stay. This is commonly called a trap. A hook on the garage entry door (slightly ajar), 25 feet of small rope routed through two wire loops to the back door of the house, and we were ready.

After a couple missed attempts and false alarms we had our big chance. At lunch time on a Saturday, as we were eating at the table (and yes, by now we were frequently checking out the door for signs of The Cat), I caught a glimpse of black slinking for the garage. Our cat Pitch was sitting idly on the sidewalk, so we knew the other black one was The Cat. I bounded quietly for the door, waited until I knew He was in the garage, then quickly opened the door and YANKED on the rope. The garage door slammed! We had our man ... er, cat!

The next problem, of course (now that we 'had' him, so to speak), was to corner and contain him. For anyone who has never faced a truly 'wild' kitty cat ... let me tell you, it could possibly qualify as an extreme sport, what with the adrenalin and so forth. I think the words 'feline projectile' most nearly describe the phenomenon. When he went streaking for his usual exit point and realized it was no longer an option, he launched himself about 6 feet in the air, bouncing off two walls before re-entering the atmosphere and retreating behind some storage boxes in the corner. Suffice it to say that there was considerable shuffling, scuffling, lunging and footwork before I finally trapped him in a Rubbermaid bin against a wall and slid the lid on between him and the wall. Another great application for Duct Tape. Lots of it.

Three phone calls later, I had learned that there are no local services or facilities provided for the humane disposal of wild kitties. I was on my own. Having neither the arsenal nor the desire to shoot the specimen, I contemplated a few alternative solutions before deciding on the Maritime Method. Not wishing to waste a good Rubbermaid bin, I attempted to transfer its occupant to a cardboard potato box. Unfortunately, it ... I didn't quite ... well you see it ... well, he got away. Fortunately we were still in the garage and I had had the foresight to close the door. So after another, briefer, variation of the previous adventure the captive kitty was once again secured ... this time in a potato box with a couple bricks to keep him company. And more Duct Tape. Lots of it.

That evening we went for a drive, just Kitty and me, along the river looking for a convenient and inconspicuous place to 'put in' as it were. We finally found one just after dark and, after a bit of a rocky climb, were down at the river's edge. I was afraid things might be just a little stuffy inside that box, and I just happened to have a large 12-inch nail with me. So I poked a bunch of holes in several sides of the box to improve his view and his overall quality of life. Then before you could say 'cat-a-maran', that kitty was floating silently downstream in the moonlight ... just him and his bricks. And his Duct Tape. Lots of it.