Caught That Like a Broncos Wide Reciever

This Christmas has been a little bit of a mixed bag for emotions for me.  I've greatly enjoyed the family who have been in town and seeing my nieces and nephews has been tremendous fun.  We had pony rides with Cosmo and Cole and have generally enjoyed the nice weather.

The downside of this Christmas eve was Sal, my new cat.  During the day the garage doors were left open as they so often have been.  For some reason known only to her, Sal left.  I was heartbroken when I went out to feed the horses Saturday afternoon to find the garage empty and quiet, no meowing or beautiful cat prancing around.  I hoped she had only recently wandered off and that she hadn't gone far, so I left the garage door open for a few hours in hopes that she would return.  She didn't.

I went to sleep tearfully that night, hoping that she had found a warm spot in a bale of hay or at least the shelter of a rock.  The barn was open if she managed to find her way there, too.  I've lived in the country long enough to have a realistic idea of what happens to cats who wander off, but I couldn't bring myself to think about that yet.  Sal was feral before she was trapped by the rescue, so I held out a small amount of hope that she had the "street smarts" to make it on her own.

Two more days went by, and there was absolutely no sign of Sal.  I let my friends who live downstairs know that she was missing, and described her to them just in case they saw her wander by the glass door or something.  Finally, just this evening while I was doing the pm feeding for the horses, my friend found me as he was leaving to go to work at his night job.  He said he woke up and saw my cat, trapped in the window well by the downstairs bedroom window!  We've had all kinds of critters trapped in there before, mice, grasshoppers, birds, voles, rabbits, and now my cat.

I hustled over to the window well to confirm that it was indeed Sal, and there she was, crouching in the small pile of leaves and staring at me, wide-eyed.  I spoke gently to her and expressed how HAPPY I was that she is ok, and she gave me a few meows.  I then went into the house to let Owen know she was found and that I'd need help getting her out of the window well.

I again approached the window well, this time with my cat carrier.  Owen met me out there and we formulated a plan.  Owen would lift the cover/grate off the top of the window well, and I would go down the ladder to the bottom.  Once I was low enough he was to replace the cover.  I would grab Sal, and once I had her in a secure hold (wrought of many years wrestling angry felines when I worked at vet clinics) Owen would lift up the cover and hold the cat carrier in such a way that I could shove her in.

You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men....  A cat can foil both!  Owen lifted the grate off the well.  No sooner had I placed one leg into the well near the ladder than Sal EXPLODED up out of the window well.  Like greased lightning she clawed her way up my leg and bolted under my arm to make a bid for freedom while spitting with teeth and claws flying!

I was born for moments such as these.  I saw her coming up my leg, and having already donned my thick leather gloves I was equipped to seize her.  As she squirted under my arm I squished her with  my elbow, simultaneously managing to scruff her with one hand and then shove her with the other hand into the cat carrier which Owen had quickly put forth.  I shut the door as she began attacking it with both claws and screaming, and the deed was done.

Owen and I took a moment to pause and stare at each other.  He then said with awe in his voice, "You caught that cat better than a Broncos wide receiver, and that was a football with knives!"  We exchanged a victorious high-five.  I proceeded to take the growling Sal in her carrier back into the garage.  We closed up the garage and put the dogs away, and I opened the carrier to replace Sal  in her large dog crate for re-adapting to domesticated garage-cat life.  She was so happy to return to her safe comfy box with blankets, water, and cat food that she darted right in.

I'll now repeat the cat-taming process with Sal, getting her acclimated to me and reteaching her that the food arrives in that little metal bowl via my hands every day.  Hopefully the fact that she hung around the house (resulting in becoming trapped in the window well) means that she likes it here ok, and maybe this second round of domestication will be effective in keeping her at our place.