Episode 11 – Other People’s Pets

You can always trust a farmer to be expert with animals. They stand tall when dealing with knee busting sheep, runaway bulls, or vampire geese intent on drawing blood. So when someone says to me, the farmer, “Don’t let the cat out!” I am fearless in the face of such challenge, being the Omniscient Farmer that I am!

We recently stayed with some friends in Edmonton. They carefully explained that we must NEVER LET THE BLACK CAT OUT! We dutifully nodded and swore that we would guard the black cat safely with our superior skillset. But really, what was there to worry about? After all, farmers are no ordinary visitors!

Our friends had left for work, and we were preparing for the homeward journey. Ernest was lugging suitcases to the car, with several loud reminders from me to watch out for the cat. “I’m going to get gas. You can lock up and wait outside.” he said, exasperated by my constant admonitions.

With the door locked and the key clinked through the mailbox, I waited happily on the street feeling unusually relaxed with no animals requiring birthing, feeding or herding. A small movement caught my eye beside the house. Whaaaat??? The sudden upward “whoosh” of my blood pressure threatened to blow a hole in the top of my head. The black cat was OUT!!! She was waltzing along the edge of the garden, her silky black tail switching and twitching in freedom’s delight. “Come here, psss psss pssssssssssss…” Would she recognize the farmer’s authority in my cat vernacular? No way! Her kitty bag was packed and she could smell mice of gold in them there streets! With a giddy sideways leap, she departed the garden and trotted daintily down the sidewalk. Gone was any semblance of my relaxed demeanor, as I kicked off my elegant heels and assumed the mantra of cat tracker extraordinaire. But the cat was obviously a David Copperfield fan and had completely vanished by the time I turned the street corner. With narrowed eyes, I increased my commitment to detaining the escapee and dropped to my knees. For countless minutes, I crawled stealthily around people’s yards, peering under bushes and singing the magical cat call, “pss, pss, pssssssss…” in dulcet tones. My heart was sinking, and at the same time I was getting angry. It obviously must have been Ernest who let her out, I would never do such a thing! As I crawled through the garden of a pretty yellow house, I spied the magical cat sitting serenely on the doorstep. Within seconds, my clawed hand snaked out, fast as a whip and strong as steel. Barefoot and filthy, I retraced my steps while clutching a snarling black cat to my bosom, giving no ground to the curious gawpers on the street.

“Quick, find a window that’s open! You let it out, and we have to get it back in!” I yelled at Ernest as I approached the house. The cat was really struggling now, but my determination knew no bounds, my farmer’s hands impervious to the scratching and squirming. Ernest handily opened a window and we unceremoniously shoved that recalcitrant cat through the narrow opening. As we drove away, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, realizing a terrible disaster had been narrowly averted. I was especially glad that our friends would never know how close they had come to losing their beloved cat all due to our, well actually Ernest’s, carelessness.

The phone was ringing insistently as we arrived home well after midnight. It was our friend asking me a really weird question, “Why are there two black cats in my house?” she demanded to know. My jaw dropped to the floor and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Yes, you can always trust a farmer!

Una St.Clair, Cat Catcher