Tips for finding kitty
There are people in your neighborhood with a considerable amount of debt, and they’re not above holding your kitty for ransom. Just pay it and consider yourself lucky.
A ROUGE VOICE PUBLIC SERVICE MESSAGE
Some have written the Rogue expressing a perception that somehow we harbor a negative view of the community, and the modern urban lifestyle in general.
These spurious sentiments hurt our feelings, and we feel bad when we hear this kind of thing. But, out of our typical magnanimous sense of esprit de corps and high-mindedness we’ve decided to put our expertise to work, and pass on some useful, authentic urban survival skills to better equip the community for life in the “new” America. This is the first in a series of helpful public service anecdotes that we might publish from time to time in a concerted effort to educate our readers and keep them up to date on latest techniques:
WHAT TO DO IF YOU LOSE YOUR KITTY
Saddest thing in the world is to walk past a light-post or bulletin board and see the pathetic little face—the heartbreaking picture of somebody’s kitty pasted between “LOST KITTY” and “REWARD!!!!” These are even more pitiful accompanied with the message: “The kids are heartsick.” I hate seeing these things, particularly since in most cases it could have been avoided had the now-despondent owners been versed on a little animal psychology. Here are a few things about Feline you should know:
• Like any human, kitty has to eat. There may not be enough wild stuff around where you live, so make sure you supplement with food and water. The kitty has a mind of its own and its prime concern is its belly. Make sure you’re feeding the kitty or you’ll be putting up posters to no good effect because the kitty’s gone to look for greener pastures.
• Also, like humans, kitties are created equal but they don’t all come with the same number of functioning brain cells—there’s everything from A to Z. Make sure you choose your animal well to begin with, because you always have to ask yourself why the kitty is lost to begin with. The kitty might just be witless, and stupidly wandered off. (This type is usually a “house-shitter” and, hate to say it, may be better off let go.) Of course, the kids might raise a fuss and want you to do something, so, by all means, put up a poster, and if the kids are young enough to be fooled, leave the address and phone number off or write a phony one. (That A to Z scale overlaps between felines and humans, making some humans actually smarter than felines.)
• Unless it is the extremely rare very stupid kitty, it’s almost impossible for a cat to be “lost”—the kitty’s sense of “place” and direction is more developed than in any human. The cat always comes back unless: a) you’ve mistreated the critter in some way or a number of ways (you’ll have to wrestle with this one yourself), or b) somebody has swayed or captured your kitty and is keeping it for themselves—this happens, and in this case it might help to include the amount of REWARD you are offering on those posters you’re tacking up all over the neighborhood, and the more the better—the better your chances of ever seeing your kitty again. Believe me, there are people in your neighborhood with a considerable amount of debt, and they’re not above holding your kitty for ransom. Just pay it and consider yourself lucky.
Here’s the thing, kitnapping aside, there’s only one way it can happen ;-) You lost the cat. That’s right. Provided kitty hasn’t met with an accident crossing the street or fallen victim to a homicidal pit bull attack or mean neighborhood kids experimenting with firecrackers and clothesline—you are at fault. Bottom line though: if the kitty is physically able, it will always return. I repeat: The kitty will always return. Unless you left it somewhere, say, across town. And this has happened to me a couple times—and I ended up getting my kitty back because I know what to do. And what you need to do is leave an article of your clothing right at the spot where you last saw your kitty (or doggy), something imbued with a lot of your body scent. The best thing, of course, is an undergarment. Yes, an undergarment—shorts, panties (especially panties), bra, etc. Any of these will work. You want your kitty back…right? Just do it. The “lost” one will eventually return to the spot, and if the critter smells your scent (provided you’ve been putting on the feed-bag) it will stay in the area. Keep driving by checking the underwear (placed discreetly under a bush) and you’ll have a good chance of locating your loved one curled up on your soiled shorts.
More effective than leaving your underclothes under a bush in the vicinity, is actually camping on the spot where you lost Puffy, and this is what I do, this is guaranteed to bring them home. I offer it as an anecdote because it gives me a chance to tell you about my kitty. He’s a clever one. Smarter than any dog I’ve met and he proved that right out of the box when I dropped the piece of chicken between him and the Dachshund. Shultz is no slouch, let me tell you—he is a scheming, spiteful little devil and friend to no cat. He’s stinky, and Germanic, born knowing the rules, and has delegated himself the law-enforcer of the household, with a particular mission to police the cats. That is, until he met the new cat. (Rescued kitty from Death Row at the pound.) I recognized this one as an exceptional kitty. Thought it might be a match for the pesky Dachshund. So, like I started to say, soon as I got the cat home from the pound I dropped a piece of chicken between him and the dog because I have a curious streak and wanted to see what would happen. When the meat hit the floor the Dachshund rushed the kitty—and the kitty, sitting like a sphinx on the linoleum, executed the coolest move I ever witnessed a sentient being perform when, without taking his eyes off the meat, without a hint of alarm or fear and with blithe disrespect for Shultz, quick as lightning raised his right paw to deliver a backhand swat to Shultz’s chops that stopped him in his tracks, spun him around and sent him scurrying off dragging his ass under him. With sublime grace, without skipping a beat, the kitty bent his neck and picked delicately at the contested meat, taking his own sweet time with it while Shultz obsessed under the rocker.
After establishing himself in the family pecking order, the kitty started riding with me in the car. Unlike most cats this one likes to ride in the car and goes everywhere—but I have to make sure to roll up the windows or he’ll jump out and go exploring. So, one day we went to the store for something and I forgot to roll up the window and he jumped out and took off. I was thinking about other stuff, forgot about the cat, drove off and left him. About seven hours later I wonder where the cat is, it’s not like him to be out of sight for so long. So, shit, then I remembered he was with me when I went to the store….
It was almost 11 o’clock at night, but I had to suck it up and swing into action if I ever wanted to see my kitty again. Like I said, I know what to do. I threw my pillow and a sleeping bag into the back seat of the car, raced down to the store and parked alongside the Korean guy waiting for his wife who was in the process of locking up the store for the night. I figured I’d ask them if they’d seen the kitty—got out and walked over to their car, and when the guy saw me coming toward his window he must have thought I was a robber, and I saw the look of panic on his face as he scrambled to get his window rolled up, saw the door locks click down. And now he’s left his wife locked outside the car to deal with me, the potential robber, by herself… she recognized me, and I told her about the trouble, me losing my kitty, and asked if it would be all right if I spent the night in their parking lot. I could tell by the look on her face that she thought I was an idiot.
“Cat have mind of its own. You never get cat back staying here. You never get cat that way. He long gone. You make a paper, and I put it in the window for you tomorrow. That all you can do.”
“Well…OK,” I said, “I’ll just hang for a while though, see if he shows….”
I turned to walk back to my rig and heard her firing some angry Korean at her hubby as she got into the car.
I rolled the window down on the driver’s side, climbed in the back seat and got myself situated with the pillow and sleeping bag. I couldn’t stretch my legs all the way out, but didn’t want to get too comfortable because I was expecting the cops any minute.
A faulty floodlight mounted on the side of the store fluttered a continuous mind-slicing strobe that I could still see with my eyes closed. The thin pillow wasn’t enough padding to keep the door handle from digging into the back of my head, and my neck was bent at a sadistic angle over the armrest.
But, I must have fallen asleep, because a subtle weight traversing the length of my compressed body woke me up at about 12:30 a.m.—and there was my kitty nonchalantly licking a paw and purring like a cement mixer. When he saw my eyes flick open he rushed my face and mashed his mug against my mouth. He’d gotten into some rotten fish somewhere, his breath smelled. When I reached to pet him he grabbed my hand with both sets of claws, flipped onto his back and rabbit-kicked my wrists to shreds with his cruel back feet while biting one of my fingers hard enough to draw blood, purring loud as he could all the while. He’s pissed because I left him, but at the same time he was glad to see me.
So there it is. Stay right where you lost your kitty. Don’t let the trail go cold.
And to all the detractors and naysayers, we extend a big wet kiss and a breathy thank you for goading us into throwing a shoulder to community service. It does feel good. See. We might be a little unpolished, but our loyalty is a rock. We’ll go to any length for our little friends. Thank you. §