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My cat, Yellikins, a male, yellow and white cat, ran away from me on Friday.
We had just recently moved, and even after three weeks Yellikins was still not adjusting to it very well. He was more of and outside cat before the move and I thought that this was what he might be missing. So, I decided to take him outside.
I had a cat harness and leash that I had never used and I decided to put it on him and take him outside. He was fine with it while he was inside though he would look up at me like, ‘what are you doing’. However, once I got him outside he went wild – like a bucking bronco. After a few seconds of this I realized that it was a bad idea and bent down to pick him up, that is when he got away. He ran madly around the fenced yard dragging the leash behind him until he came to a large flower pot and used it to jump over the fence, and was gone.
I did not see him again until later that night. About two in the morning I heard a cat crying and when out to look for it. I whistled for him, and the cat cried even louder. Eventually, I saw him upon the privacy fence in the back of our yard. I slowly came toward him, but this only scared him away. I whistled for him, which he responded with by a cry. However, ever time the cries were father away. I did not see him again that night.
The next day, my wife and I walked the neighborhood putting flyers on doors where we thought that he might be, but we would see no signs of him until that night. About two Sunday morning we were awoken to a commotion coming from house down the street from ours. The man, who I would later find out was the neighborhood drunk, was outside screaming profanities and banging things around. A few minutes later four sheriff’s deputies’ cars show up and quieted him down. We would find out the next morning that the drunk had been disturbed by a cat crying on his property.
On Sunday we again walk though the neighborhood but did not find him. I was about to give up hope when that night while I was taking trash out I thought that I heard a very faint cat cry. I walked toward that direction and I saw him in the street. As I approached him he ran into an open garage. Moving toward the garage with some reservation about trespassing onto a neighbor’s property I took out and shook the bag of treats that I had in my pocket. The cat came out of the garage and ran toward me, only it was not him. It looked very much like him, a yellow and white tabby, but it was not Yelliekins. Soon I noticed that there were all kinds of other cats on the property, It looked like the crazy cat lady lived here.
Dishearten, I turned away and began to walk back toward the street while the yellow and white tabby, disappointed that the promise of cat treats had been taken away, raised its head up and went back into the garage. As I approached the street I heard another cat cry, it was coming from inside the garage. By this time my wife had arrived to help me, so while she went to whistle for him, I ran the doorbell of the house to ask their permission to look in the garage. I was half expecting to be greeted by the crazy cat lady when the door opened. However, it was an old man in a wheelchair and his daughter or wife. I explained our situation to them and they agreed that we could look in their garage for our cat. I do not think that the old man gets many visitors, for he talk with me for about ten minutes before I finally made it into the garage. By this time my wife had found Yellikins, or so she thought. There was a cat up in the rafters of the garage the cry sounded like his, but we could not see him. The old man had told me that the light in the garage did not work and we did not have a flashlight with us. Fortunately I had a lighter in my pocket and used it to see him – it was Yellikins. He was up in the rafters and no amount of whistling or offering of cat treats could get him to come down. Eventually, in all the junk in the cluttered garage we found a chair. I used this to get up to him, but still he would not come to me. He would let me pet him, but he was not moving from his perch. Fortunately, he was still wearing the harness which I grabbed and pulled him down. Disturbed and struggling I carried him back to our house. There was no way I was letting go of him this time.
After his two days wandering around outside he was happy to once again be home. Oddly, the yellow cat that led me to that garage was not him, but without that other yellow cat we would have never found him.
We had just recently moved, and even after three weeks Yellikins was still not adjusting to it very well. He was more of and outside cat before the move and I thought that this was what he might be missing. So, I decided to take him outside.
I had a cat harness and leash that I had never used and I decided to put it on him and take him outside. He was fine with it while he was inside though he would look up at me like, ‘what are you doing’. However, once I got him outside he went wild – like a bucking bronco. After a few seconds of this I realized that it was a bad idea and bent down to pick him up, that is when he got away. He ran madly around the fenced yard dragging the leash behind him until he came to a large flower pot and used it to jump over the fence, and was gone.
I did not see him again until later that night. About two in the morning I heard a cat crying and when out to look for it. I whistled for him, and the cat cried even louder. Eventually, I saw him upon the privacy fence in the back of our yard. I slowly came toward him, but this only scared him away. I whistled for him, which he responded with by a cry. However, ever time the cries were father away. I did not see him again that night.
The next day, my wife and I walked the neighborhood putting flyers on doors where we thought that he might be, but we would see no signs of him until that night. About two Sunday morning we were awoken to a commotion coming from house down the street from ours. The man, who I would later find out was the neighborhood drunk, was outside screaming profanities and banging things around. A few minutes later four sheriff’s deputies’ cars show up and quieted him down. We would find out the next morning that the drunk had been disturbed by a cat crying on his property.
On Sunday we again walk though the neighborhood but did not find him. I was about to give up hope when that night while I was taking trash out I thought that I heard a very faint cat cry. I walked toward that direction and I saw him in the street. As I approached him he ran into an open garage. Moving toward the garage with some reservation about trespassing onto a neighbor’s property I took out and shook the bag of treats that I had in my pocket. The cat came out of the garage and ran toward me, only it was not him. It looked very much like him, a yellow and white tabby, but it was not Yelliekins. Soon I noticed that there were all kinds of other cats on the property, It looked like the crazy cat lady lived here.
Dishearten, I turned away and began to walk back toward the street while the yellow and white tabby, disappointed that the promise of cat treats had been taken away, raised its head up and went back into the garage. As I approached the street I heard another cat cry, it was coming from inside the garage. By this time my wife had arrived to help me, so while she went to whistle for him, I ran the doorbell of the house to ask their permission to look in the garage. I was half expecting to be greeted by the crazy cat lady when the door opened. However, it was an old man in a wheelchair and his daughter or wife. I explained our situation to them and they agreed that we could look in their garage for our cat. I do not think that the old man gets many visitors, for he talk with me for about ten minutes before I finally made it into the garage. By this time my wife had found Yellikins, or so she thought. There was a cat up in the rafters of the garage the cry sounded like his, but we could not see him. The old man had told me that the light in the garage did not work and we did not have a flashlight with us. Fortunately I had a lighter in my pocket and used it to see him – it was Yellikins. He was up in the rafters and no amount of whistling or offering of cat treats could get him to come down. Eventually, in all the junk in the cluttered garage we found a chair. I used this to get up to him, but still he would not come to me. He would let me pet him, but he was not moving from his perch. Fortunately, he was still wearing the harness which I grabbed and pulled him down. Disturbed and struggling I carried him back to our house. There was no way I was letting go of him this time.
After his two days wandering around outside he was happy to once again be home. Oddly, the yellow cat that led me to that garage was not him, but without that other yellow cat we would have never found him.
