This morning our friend Dillon came by to pick up Cabell’s stuff to drive it up to Madison for her. Including her cats. We’ve had Cabell’s three cats living in our basement (to avoid conflict with our three cats, living upstairs) all summer. I was looking forward to getting them back to their mommy. However, we should have planned it a bit better. This morning, Robin left for work, and I went downstairs. The cats were milling around meowing for breakfast as always. I figured that this would be the time to get them into the carriers. So, I picked up a carrier and opened the door.
Of course, anyone with cats knows what I saw when I turned around. Disappearing cat tails. I went back upstairs and did other stuff for 15 minutes, then came back down. Two of the cats, Pandora and Bart, were back at the food dishes, and it took only a few minutes to get them into the open carriers. Legba, on the other hand, was lurking in the depths of the basement somewhere.
I waited another half hour, then went down and put food in a bowl and sat by it. Legba stuck his head out of a stack of lumber, but that was it. After a while I went over to him with the bowl and rattled it invitingly. After much coaxing, he finally came out and approached the bowl. I reached out to pick him up.
Devotees of Terry Pratchett will know what I mean if I say that this is like trying to catch Greebo* and put him in a cat carrier. For the rest of you, just imagine you’re picking up a friend’s pet bobcat. This is a BIG cat, and it’s all muscle. And he doesn’t like being picked up at the best of times.
In retrospect, this job should have gone to someone not taking blood thinners. I got most of the blood off the basement floor, although the shorts I was wearing aren’t ever going to be the same. Meanwhile, Dillon has come and gone, and Legba will be residing with us a while longer.
*He’s really just an old softy.