Posted by: peterhact | July 18, 2012

Resistance is Futile – Part 2.

So, when we left the S&D Cat Module (Kitten version 1.0), he was plotting and scheming in the sun, (and doing a really good job at pretending to be asleep) I was thinking I had Won, and it was finally accepted that Cats wear Collars and Stay On Leashes. Yeah, right. wrong on all counts.

We booked him in one day to a cattery. They asked if he wore a collar. He does, I said. Anything special about him? I tried to think. in the back of my mind, I was thinking “avoid mentioning the aggression, the maddies, the tearing, the shredding, the multiple attempts to gut me, visitors, family and jehovah’s witnesses / door to door salespeople.” I brightened up. “He absolutely loves going for walks on a leash.” Take that, you bastard. Hur, Hur. Hur.

We had a great wedding and honeymoon. no panic about cats, no stress about anything, really. Fantastic. Then the grim reality hit in. I had to face the S&D Cat Module (Kitten version 1.0), who had been left in a cattery for 3 whole weeks and I had told the owners that he loved going for walkies. This was going to be interesting. It was. The Cattery owner told me that although I insisted he loved going for walkies, what he really loved doing was, in no particular order, Attacking the staff, dogs, other cats, other owners and destroying property. The upshot was that he was banned from the cattery, never bring him back, if you get another cat who is a bit nicer, we may consider it, but only after a cat psychologist has confirmed that it is normal, with no homicidal tendencies. She took me in to pick him up.

The dejected thing certainly didn’t look like my kitten. There was a perfectly good reason, it wasn’t my kitten. Oops. wrong cage. They had moved my kitten into another cage, this was reinforced with yellow and black stickers all over it. A mini Raptor Cage. (incidentally, the Raptor Cage Cat enclosure was not created based on this cage, but rather the one in the movie, Jurassic Park) The door was opened and my little S&D Cat Module (Kitten version 1.0) was released with the use of a long pole. He blinked in the bright light and then leapt. Into my arms. I received (with apprehension) lots of love and purring from an (obviously) traumatised kitten. Right. Home time.

How much do I owe you?

Oh. That much. Right. No, I understand. Bandages, dettol, other cat vet bills, pain and suffering, mental anguish, it all adds up. Yes, I would like a receipt. Where is his leash? and the cat cage? right. all close to the exit.

After I paid the bill, loaded the S&D Cat Module (Kitten version 1.0) into the car, came back for his other paraphernalia, consoled the weeping owner – those bites and scratches on your pomeranian will heal, yes, they do, okay, well, thanks anyway, and drove off, my bank balance was very much lighter. The drive home was in silence, the sort of silence that means that when we get home, young cat, there are going to be Words.

When we got home, there were no words. There was a lot of exploring, there was a lot of cuddling by my new wife, and there was a lot of lying on the couch, remembering that he was home, not locked up in some hellhole.

One thing that needs to be mentioned here is that the S&D Cat Module (Kitten version 1.0) was never my cat. He was bought by my wife, but it seems that over the years, slowly and insidiously, she didn’t want to feed him, change his litter, take him walkies, and he became my cat.

Domestic bliss reigned. He even started to like sitting on my lap, going into the backyard on his leash – it was if the trauma of the cattery made him realise that his bad behavior could lead to a place just like that. This was a changed cat.

What we both didn’t know was that after the Great Garden Remodeling, The owner of the townhouse had realised that it was far better than before, and this was the best opportunity to sell it. We were blissfully unaware, until the estate agent, like the angel of doom, came a-knocking on the door. We have 6 weeks to get out, the owner wants to move back in / up the rent / sell the place. The estate agent had no clue what the owner wanted to do. Fantastic.

So we had to pack up and shift. the next house had no garden, so walkies were out. We did toy with the idea of taking him for walkies out the front of the house, so we did some market research as to the type of walkers around us. oh. there seems to be a disproportional number of Rottweilers in this suburb. Right. maybe not. After the cattery bills for vet work on a pomeranian, we were certain that Rottweilers were far more expensive to fix. We never entertained the idea of the dogs winning a fight.

The house after that was the one where the Raptor cage was introduced. It was also the house of the introduction of the Single Tabby Female, she too had a reserve of pent up aggression that was directed squarely at the (now)  S&D Cat Module. The kitten phase had been grown out of, and now we had a large sleek panther that had new inventive ways of getting off leashes. Collars still posed a problem, and there were instances of hog tying, but eventually, as there was a purpose built cat (raptor) cage, the collar came off. I kept the leash, bought two small dog harnesses and entertained the idea of stepping out the back with two cats on leashes. Far too ambitious. I should have bought the self winding leashes.

When we moved into the Big House, the 5 bedroom behemoth, my wife left me. I was left with a massive house, two cats and one was getting really old and tired. I decided that because the cats were my only companions, (apart from the kids on weekends) the Raptor Cage could be removed.  Strangely, nobody tried to escape. (the cats, not the kids) They settled into a period of sunny days on the windowsill, lots of garden to explore, and just growing old peacefully. The Single Tabby Female left us while we were there.

The S&D Cat Module was not overjoyed, he missed their arguments about cat food bowls, weather, birds, people, sunny spots, I mean, if he was a human, he would have been the old guy who is left at a loss when his wife dies. The S&D Cat Module informs me that he IS human. So much so that he should be allowed to eat at the table, sit in the lounge and kick back and relax with me and the kids. I have told him that the first thing he has to do is stop eating grass. Last thing I need is a little steaming pile of spew on the lounge room rug.

And now we are here, at the new house. Complete with doormats for cats to lie on, a vege patch for cats to fertilise and lots of sunny spots for old cats to kick back and relax. Resistance is futile. I should have just let him explore without the leash.


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