A most distressing situation.
I am at my wit's end. I have two outdoor spayed and semi-socialized kitties, one of whom has gotten herself into a terrible jam.
I have been feeding these kitties out on my front porch and my back
deck, you know, to avoid squabbling over their meager portions.
This practice has also attracted a few raccoons, possum, skunks, and a
few other cats, all of whom I gently tell to get lost. Sorry, no room
at the inn. I've adopted these two kitties, but I can't feed the whole
outdoor animal population.
The raccoons are pretty stubborn, however, and they make their rounds
despite my adopting the practice of not feeding after dark.
Recently, I made the mistake of leaving my garage door open at night.
This has happened on more than one occasion. I feared that the raccoons
would start living under my house in my labyrinth of horrors
crawlspace.
(I have two crawlspaces, actually, and one of them is a "deadman's
crawlspace," meaning you may enter, but there is no way you can get back
out before you expire from mold and fiberglass inhalation. Truly
nasty.)
I vowed to start closing the garage every night to prevent unwanted visitors from taking up residence in there.
One of my kitties is an avid hunter, so naturally, she went in to
explore, likely on the trail of a rodent of some kind. When I shut the
garage door the other night, I made the call for any kitties to make
their way out before the door was shut for the night. If someone did get
locked in, no biggie, I was going to open the door up in the morning
anyway.
The next day, Stevie (that's the hunter kitty) didn't show up for
breakfast. I wasn't worried. I figured I must have locked her in the
garage, and I went to open it up to let her out. I expected to see a
frantic, grateful cat rush past me toward freedom. But instead it was
just quiet. I figured she must be sleeping off a nice rodent binge. She
would emerge on her own timeline.
But she didn't show up for dinner, and I wasn't going to leave the
door open all night, because of the raccoon thing, so, reluctantly, I
shut the door for the night. Night two.
The next morning (yesterday) I opened the garage, and there was
evidence that something had been banging around in there. A few things
were knocked over, but not really raccoon level destruction. I found
evidence of claw marks that were clearly cat generated on a piece of
duct tape that was sealing the corner of my garage door.
Now I was fairly certain that it was a cat, so I went about looking
in the garage, even peering into the evil crawlspace and calling out for
her. We are on good terms, and she will let me pet her, but she's not
one to come when called. That's my other cat, Spooky. She's practically a
dog, running after me when I go check the mail.
Anyway, I wanted to leave the garage door open for Stevie, but when I
attempted to do this, Spooky, the dog kitty, came bounding up and tried
to get into the crawlspace of no return. I didn't want her doing that
because there could still be a rabid raccoon hiding under there waiting
to eat her, who may or may not have eaten my other cat, and I didn't
want to lose two cats to the Bermuda Triangle. One cat disappearance was
enough.
So, I reluctantly shut the garage door once again. I figured sooner
or later, Stevie would emerge and decide she'd had enough of hiding out.
Can't live off of rodents forever.
But after another whole day had passed, with me intermittently
checking the garage and calling out for her, all the while having to
fend off Spooky, who really seemed intent on entering the crawlspace, I
finally had to resort to setting my large animal trap.
I loaded it up with cat food and even a can of tuna. I have had great
success in the past trapping and re-homing all manner of wildlife in
this trap: foxes, possum, raccoons, feral cats, you name it. (Never a
skunk, thankfully.) I set up a surveillance cam with night vision and
waited for my first customer. I was still not certain that it was just a
cat in my garage, but the evidence was leaning heavily in that
direction.
Another day and night passed, and no action on the cam. The trap was
untouched. Now it is the third day, today, and I am really worried. I
knew Stevie had to be in there, but she hadn't made a peep. My indoor
cats, sensing something was amiss, had done some yowling the night
before.
This morning, I decided to explore the forbidden zone a bit further,
sticking my head into the dead man's crawl. I heard a faint meow. It was
Stevie. I couldn't see her because a lot of the floor insulation under
there had fallen down. I grabbed a cane, and gently lifted a fallen
section, and there she was behind it.
I called to her softly, using my best "good kitty" voice, but she was
having none of it. She skittered away even further into the gloomy,
uninhabitable darkness. At least she could skitter. I lay there on the
concrete, pleading, coaxing, offering food and water, but she seemed
firmly set against the idea of approaching the exit.
I have moved the trap as far in as the camera viewing would allow, so
I can monitor when and if she decides to approach the freshly placed
wet food. I don't really want to traumatize her with the trap, but I
also want to end this without further incident. I'm afraid that if I
don't trap her, when I go to open the garage door, she will spook and
run back into the crawlspace, prolonging the whole standoff. I can't
leave the garage door open, for fear of losing another cat, or having a
raccoon or other undesirable take up residence under there.
So that's where it stands now. Waiting for a poor traumatized cat to
take the bait and get traumatized even further before eventually being
liberated by me. I know the fire department has been known to rescue
cats from trees, but short of removing my floor with a fire axe, there
is no way a fireman is getting into that crawlspace. Unless they were a
very tiny, very courageous firefighter, in which case, I'm sure their
skills would be needed elsewhere, being fire season and all.
That's it. Thanks for reading. Please comment if you have any helpful suggestions. Or cold cuts. I know cats love those.
Later that evening, as I was washing my hands and just about to sit down to dinner, I heard some loud meowing coming through the AC vents in my downstairs bathroom.
I had been willing to play the waiting game, but her meowing under the house
was pulling at my heartstrings, so I stopped what I was doing and went back into the garage, determined to do whatever it took to end this.
I removed the cage and saw that she
was a lot closer to the opening, so I sat down and had another go at negotiation. It was back and forth for a few tense minutes, both of us conceding just a little at a time.
First, an apology from me. OK. Done. Then lots of promises of fresh turkey. And whatever else I had on hand.
I
placed a small piece of turkey on a plate and slid it toward her. She
advanced a little, meowing loudly. She still wasn't comfortable with my
giant frame in front of her, so I backed off.
"Further,"
I could almost hear her thinking. I went completely out of sight. In an
instant, so did the turkey. Down in one gulp.
I
knew it was just a matter of time and space at this point. I put down
some more, this time closer to the outside. Soon she began eyeing the
world outside of the crawlspace and meowing even louder.
"You
want the garage door open?" I said, sensing she might take a chance and
bolt past me to the outside world. Another demand met.
I
opened the door, making certain that the other cat wasn't going to make
a dash inside. I wasn't down for a revolving door cat trick.
She did as I had hoped and ran past me and the extra food, out to the glorious freedom of the evening air.
"Yay, Stevie!" I gleefully proclaimed to anyone within earshot.
I
went back in and sealed off the opening, closed the garage for the
night, and placed the rest of the food in her usual feeding location on
the back deck.
She followed me without hesitation and ran up to me for pats and whisker rubs. All was forgiven.
That's all folks. You may all sleep sound tonight. Stevie is free, fed and happy!