Many of you are probably aware of the well-received, well-cast World War II film The Great Escape. Fewer of you are likely to remember the campier and marginally more recent Escape from New York.
But, those movies, along with Escape from Alcatraz, The Escape Room, and the more simply titled The Escape all have one thing in common: whoever is there, for whatever reason, wants to either get out of there or get to somewhere else. Parsing the difference is for someone else to do.
Today, my friends, we’re talking about getting out…the cat way.
Show of hands: how many of you have cats that once-however-so-often decide to make a beeline for the door? I’m talking any door — door to outside, door to basement, door to room where cat is not supposed to be.
Another show of hands: how many of you have cats that every single time make a beeline for the door?
Final show of hands: how many of you have managed to keep the cat from getting through that door 100% of absolutely every single time the cat has attempted to escape?
I’ll tell you something: when the cat to person ratio gets lopsided in favor of cats, the percentage of successfully blocked attempts tends to trend downward. Worse, the cats know.
On his own, Joshua is challenging enough. Thankfully, he is super easy-going about being picked up and returned to his suite or solarium. But, good luck keeping him from getting his jaunt into the hallway. Suitemates J’Happy and Mr. Thief bring it to a whole other level.
The o-man twins from Oman, those Maus that make us swoon, those brothers from afar who have captured our hearts, are sneaky. They team up and run interference for each other because THEY KNOW one of them can ESCAPE OUT THE DOOR. Seriously, their level of cooperation is impressive and incomparable. Also, almost inescapably, one of them is bound to get by a solo human trying to leave the suite. Of course, with practice (boy, your friendly neighborhood blogger is getting a lot of practice!) it gets easier to predict their maneuvers, take evasive action, and depart without ado.
Over the years, there have always been a few feistier-than-average felines with a flair for flying through doors. Perhaps none have soared to higher heights in this manner than Mishush, whose escapade will be sung of by balladeers and bards and high school glee clubs for eternity. But, Mishush is Mishush, and it would be futile to try to summarize her simply.
More easily, one can just say, “kittens.” Let the head nodding begin. I know y’all know.
Many doors at Tabby’s Place have cat barriers (baby gates for felines) on the hallway side of them, so office doors can be welcomingly open and office cats can remain safely contained within. But there is exactly one door that typically remains closed, excepting for entrances and egresses, and that also has a cat barrier.
What magnitude of fortress requires such a grand portcullis in the hallowed land of Tabbydom?
The Special Needs suite.
By now, perhaps you are aware that the Special Needs creatures that usually inhabit the Special Needs suite are kittens. Cute? Right. Little? Right. Containable? Ummm…
Refer here.
In a landscape blanketed with tails and toe-beans, the occasional escape is unavoidable. It’s not so much that the kitties want to “get away” from anything. Rather, they are driven by curiosity, playfulness, and a general disapproval of containment. It’s just lucky for us that the Omani duo hasn’t started a secret plot to get all of the cats to coordinate a grand exodus into the hallway and beyond.
Or, have they?