A Paw-sible Theory

“Cats are notoriously sore losers. Coming in second best, especially to someone as poorly coordinated as a human being, grates their sensibility.”

––Stephen Baker

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: Attack Cats

I panicked when Maggie walked in and found us all on the screened porch. It had cost Alyx a bundle to have the cat door installed on the glass patio door. She would be very upset if she found out it was for nothing. Fortunately, Maggie focused on Pooky and didn’t seem to suspect anything, or didn’t show it if she did.

“Well, my goodness, the prodigal cat has returned. I’m glad you decided to come home, Pooky. Alyx would have been really disappointed not to find you here.”

“You must have had quite an adventure out there, but this better be the last of your outdoor excursions. The outside can be a very dangerous place for a kitty.” She stood still for a second, her head cocked, and my heart stopped.

“How did you all get out here, anyway? I don’t remember unlocking the cat door.” She shook her head and gave Pooky another hug, brought her in and cleaned her up as much as Pooky would allow.

I felt intense relief when she didn’t pay any attention to the screen door and left it propped open. I took a moment to catch my breath, and followed Maggie as she went about her established routine, one of which was to return calls to mutual friends, bringing them up to date on what was happening with Alyx and Ethan, while the other felines kept track of the activity in the back yard. After refilling the food and water bowls, Maggie went from room to room opening windows.

Her cell phone started playing the catchy tune Ethan had downloaded for her. It was Alyx calling, and I reached up with my paws, meowing and purring. She understood and hoisted me over her shoulder.

“Murfy wants to say hello; here he is,” she said putting the phone to my ear. I heard Alyx talking and pretended nonchalance as expected. Maggie pressed the phone to her ear then, and Alyx said the doctor usually made his rounds at eight o’clock in the morning, and she would call after that to let her know what time to pick her up. Elated to hear that Alyx was coming home, I launched myself out of Maggie’s arms and skidded across the tile floor to let the girls in on the good news.

The morning light squeezing through the partially closed shutters revealed the party atmosphere of the previous night: toys scattered all over, pillows knocked on the floor, and scatter rugs scattered. Too excited to sleep during the night, we had chased each other and a lizard all over the house. The lizard had lost his tail as a result. Lucky for him, we were too happy to take the hunt seriously.

I thought the girls could help with putting their toys back in the basket, work together to straighten the kitchen rugs, and put the pillows back on the couch. The tail, however, had to be disposed of immediately. For some reason not quite clear to me, humans reacted very badly to finding animal parts in a house. Alyx’s shriek the first time I brought her a piece of lizard––was not soon forgotten. I picked up the tail with my teeth and dropped it in the wastebasket under the kitchen sink, the cabinet doors no problem.

I always hoped Alyx would toss bits of food into the garbage can, but she almost always disposed of any leftovers in the noisy contraption visible under the sink. By the time Maggie arrived, there was no sign of the previous night’s celebration.

Maggie had arranged to have the front door lock re-keyed and the young man from All-Locks finished the job around ten. Maggie handed him a check and accepted the two keys he offered. I followed her as she closed and locked the windows. The phone rang before she got to Alyx’s bedroom and I heard the one-sided conversation.

“Of course, I’ll be there. I’m at your house now. Anything special you want me to bring you tomorrow morning?”

Maggie gathered Alyx’s clothes; put them in a canvas tote bag and left. I divided my time between catnaps, and watching the street in hopes that Alyx might come home that day. Every time I heard a car in the distance, I sat tall in anticipation only to be disappointed when it wasn’t Maggie.

That evening, I saw the same vehicle I had seen twice during the day slow down as it passed the house. I didn’t recognize the driver or his passenger and warning bells went off in my head.

Sometime late into the night, a loud yowling outside rudely awakened me. The bully I had fought earlier that week had been taunting me since. I was sorry I hadn’t hurt him more than I did when I had the chance.

I meandered to the front door and sat watching the scruffy stray, thinking I should go out there and force him out of the yard once-and-for-all, when the cat bounded away as fast as he could. I had no idea what had made the cat run away. I didn’t think it was another animal or human because I hadn’t heard any other sound. I stepped away from the glass, hid a little behind the door and continued to watch with interest.

There was no direct light illuminating the front porch, just the streetlight filtering through the branches of the large magnolia tree. Two men dressed in dark clothing, wearing dark wool caps approached from behind the azalea bushes.

The men were both at the front door; one of them crouched next to the wicker chair, the other one apparently trying a key in the lock. I couldn’t believe what was happening and came out in full view as the man unsuccessfully tried to unlock the door. The man swore quietly as he motioned to his partner to check the windows. Misty and Pooky joined me growling and hissing at the intruders as we ran from window to window. Misty wasn’t sure what was going on but she didn’t let that stop her.

At Alyx’s bedroom window, emboldened by the fact they were now in the dark and out of view from the street, the two men removed the screen. We were ready for them, a determined mass of fur, claws, and teeth.

In the melee, we scratched, bit, yowled, and squawked loud enough to wake up Smooch, the dog next door, who in turn woke up Mrs. Leary, who turned on her patio lights. The bloodied intruders ran off to the other side of the yard and down the street.

There wasn’t anything I could do about the open window, but I reassured everyone not to worry about those two coming back. Proud of successfully defending our turf, the females rehashed everything that happened several times. Huddled on Alyx’s bed, they finally fell into a light sleep and I watched the window through slit eyes, alert to the slightest sound.