A Kitty Misadventure

When we got home at nearly evelen last night, we were greeted outside our apartment block by Ricky (short for Tumeric) a resident marmalade stray with whom we've managed to establish a feeding relationship. We placed some kibbles at the usual place but he wouldn't touch it and seemed to be rather freaked out by some incessant caterwauling coming from some way off to which he was responding with loud meows of his own. I'd thought it was coming from another stray cat somewhere in the next block but Gravitas thought it might be one of the Spice Meows whom we've taken to locking up in the kitty apartments when we go out (except for Cory who is still being sequestrated) due to Pepa's insistence on jumping up on the forbidden zone that is the kitchen countertop. Still downstairs, I looked up to where the kitty apartment window is and to my horror, I saw that the yowling was coming from Pepa who was perched on the window overhang of our downstairs neighbour.

Now, Pepa is something of a dare devil and although she knows she's not supposed to do it, will often perch on the balustrade of our balcony and on window sills (see picture above). Last night, she managed to squeeze through the gap in the window of the kitty apartment which we'd left ajar for air circulation and landed, whether accidentally or by design, but i'm sure very noisily, on the awning of the downstairs neighbour. She then went over to the adjacent window overhang (probably because the awning, rather aged, creaked and rumbled with every step she took) and that was where we found her.

The window overhang on which Pepa was perched corresponded with our kitchen window which has a ledge of the same width and length, and although we opened our kitchen window wide, she couldn't jump up as it did not afford her an adequate angle to aim her leap. So I coaxed her back to the creaky awning, which I though would enable her to jump back onto the sill of the kitty apartment window. However, she was too frightened to budge and instead just kept up her yowling, earning a sush from said downstairs neighbour.

We considered our rather limited options. Letting down a long towel? (can't expect her to cling on with her claws as we haul her up.) Call the fire department? (errr, perhaps not.) That's when I hit on the idea of lowering the cat carrier down to the awning. Now, this trick will never work with the other cats who'd run the opposite direction at the sight of the carrier. I don't blame them. Each time they went into it, they're magically transported to the animal torture chamber called the vet's office. But Pepa is somehow fascinated with the cat carrier, vet experiences not withstanding, and would sometimes just go lie down in it, apparently for fun.

So Gravitas removed the carrier's wire mesh door and I attached some raffia string (we didn't have any proper rope at hand) to its handle. Gravitas then lowered the carrier down to the creaky awning, and Pepa gingerly stepped inside. Gravitas then even more gingerly began raising the carrier by the raffia string, praying that the plastic clasps that held the top and bottom halves of the carrier together wouldn't give way since Pepa's kinda fat. On my part, I was amazed that Pepa stayed still in the carrier sans door. Cats dislike unstable surfaces and if you carried a cat on say, a tray, the cat will more likely than not jump off.

But Pepa didn't move a whisker and after what seemed a very long and tense period of time, Gravitas carried the carrier over the window sill and into the safety of our kitchen. Pepa emerged from the carrier like some hero, seeming none the worse for wear, and was back to her naughty self in no time. I can only shake my head and roll my eyes. Now the sliding window of the kitty apartment is wedged shut with a longer stick and the gap is only about an inch wide. Too bad if they can't get adequate fresh air. They have Pepa to thank for that.