Cat Gathering

In advance of the arrival of the flooring installation crew, I had promised to gather the cats and safely secure them in what would be a workman free area of the house. The night before I had had a heart to heart to talk with each of the animals in turn, patiently explaining that the workmen might be noisy but would pose no threat, that cats at large and underfoot would slow the process and that temporary exile was the sanest solution for all involved. The plan was simple - well ahead of time I would close off the bedrooms then calmly capture each cat and deposit them on the other side of the door, countering any resistance with human skill, cunning and a strategically placed bowl of friskies. Being a life long cat lover and a realist, I gave the plan a one in ten chance of success - it went to hell in a handbasket with the first cat, who, overcome with curiosity and natural feline elusiveness, dodged my first capture attempt and alerted the other animals with a loud meow of protest. With their finely tuned radar on high, cats fled in all directions except toward the bedrooms - under couches, behind bookcases, into closets and cubby holes - you can't trust a cat to honor a promise, I realized too late and clearly my plan had serious flaws. The clock was ticking and a change of strategy was clearly indicated.

Nonchalantly, I began filling their usual food bowls with friskies. In one fell swoop, this snared me a tabby and the older tuxedo cat. I casually carried both to the bedroom, set them behind the door and closed it gently. So far, so good, I thought to myself. The short haired black one was regarding me with a look of suspicion from atop the refrigerator so I pretended to ignore him and began filling water dishes. This brought out the youngest, twining around my ankles and I reached down to pet him, then snatched him up. The cat on the refrigerator took several steps backward at this but again I ignored him. I strolled back into the kitchen, picked up a handful of mail and sorted through it, wiped down the counters, unplugged my cell and dropped it into my purse. He approached me cautiously, his yellow eyes wide and alert, his sleek body poised for flight - as soon as he turned his head toward the food bowl, I sprang into action. This left only the youngest tuxedo cat, the most social animal, the one who was most likely to feel the need to supervise the crew and inspect their work, the most risky to leave free. He was distracted by a knock on the door and took a flying leap off the arm of the couch where I miraculously caught him in mid air. Feeling well pleased with myself, I let the workers in, put the dogs in their kennels, and left for work. I refused to allow myself to think that the entire process might have to be repeated the following morning with smarter and more prepared animals. Cats do learn and adapt from experience and I wasn't so sure I would prevail a second time, as indeed I didn't, only managing to corral three out of five before running out of time. I gave the crew strict instructions, said a small prayer to keep away disaster, and unhappily left for work.

The gods of cats and flooring must have been watching - the new floor was in place by noon and both cats were peacefully sleeping in the den when I got home. The three who had been confined were no worse the wear for their time spent in lock up and all five actively explored the new floor thoroughly. As best I can tell, they seem to think it will do.