The great escape

With an increasing number of cats, we were spread a little thin!

It was important to keep the “suites” clean and equally, to spend time with the fosters. Most enjoyed a game and several liked going out for walks which was Grant’s department.

The cats had to be on harnesses as we couldn’t afford to have them go missing, especially so near a busy highway.

We had one very bad scare, however…

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While Grant finished work on the large room that was “M”s, the boy was temporarily accommodated in the library upstairs, because he and Emily could not tolerate being together in reduced space. Later on they lived quite happily together in that big room.

The “library” was so called only because it was where Grant had installed shelves for all my books. I used it occasionally for pet-sitting other people’s cats or as temporary quarters for cats that had not yet seen the vet. And for “M” on this occasion.

Moving in, I’d had special screens placed on all the windows at the back of the house to prevent birds hitting them. They also had mosquito screening. Additionally, this room was on the top floor, some 15 feet above the patio.

Consequently, that night I felt confident leaving the window cracked so that “M” would have a breath of fresh air.

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Early next morning, I took “M” his breakfast and was horrified to find the room empty! Our boy had eased the window open, broken through two layers of screens and jumped 15 feet to land on the patio below. He was nowhere in sight.

Grant and I spent the day patrolling the garden, up and down the steep hill, looking up in the trees, calling and calling. “M” was devoted to Grant, yet he did not return. We were distraught.

That evening a friend was picking me up to go to a fund raiser for another animal charity. I didn’t feel like going, but Grant camped himself outside the door to the suites, determined to stay there all night if necessary.

When we returned hours later, the man greeted us, grinning from ear to ear. No sooner had we pulled out of the driveway than “M” had emerged from beneath the ivy up on the hill and scampered over chattering: “Food! Need lots of food!

He was awarded a large dinner – following a very tight hug.

From then on, that window was shut tight at all times!

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Oliver was a magnificent Birman. Though I would have been happy to keep any of the fosters, I knew I had to be sensible or I would end up like the lady who hoarded and I’d witnessed the disaster that became. But giving up Oliver was very hard.

He and “M” were great pals and the lady who wanted Oliver offered to take them both. We took them over to Bainbridge Island on the ferry, returning with heavy hearts.

Next day, Grant got a call to say that Oliver was fine but “M” was wedged behind the washing machine and refusing to come out. Cats often do this sort of thing in new homes, but “M” was with his buddy, yet he would not budge at all. It became clear that “M” would not settle, so we went to fetch him back and he remained in the suites for the rest of his life.

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He wanted to be with Grant. It was so obvious in the way he lit up in his presence. We did offer “M” the choice of joining the upstairs gang but he said oh no, he much preferred to retain his position as Boss of the Suites.

We felt sorry that the buddies got separated, but Oliver was much cherished. He lived a long happy life on Bainbridge Island and we did our best for “M” who we loved very much. We lost him to cancer the year before we left Washington.

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Despite the presence of all these cats, we had a considerable mouse problem.

One day when I collected my car after servicing, I leaned over to put the invoice in the glove compartment. Imagine my surprise, when I opened it, to see a tiny face looking at me.

Not much I could do about it just then and it probably belonged back at the house, so I shut it back in and drove home where I rattled things about in the hope of persuading the mouse to leave and I presumed that it did.

Some weeks later, however, I became aware of a nasty odour in the car. I had smelled dead rodents before, so I recognised it. The Toyota dealer had me bring the car in and somewhere in the engine, sadly they found a nest of little dead mice.

Luckily those mice did not damage the car. Here, mice are more industrious and I had to have my previous car completely re-wired!

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While the foster suites kept us busy, we could not neglect our above stairs friends.

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Not that I got any complaints from my sleepy-heads.

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In the new house, Joely had a whole room to himself and we decided he needed a mate to share it, so we took him to a shelter in Tacoma where he was found to be compatible with two little girl bunnies. He showed no particular preference, so it was up to me to select.

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Little grey Macy had been waiting a long time for a home so it was an easy choice.

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The two bunnies immediately became inseparable.

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