I should have known. It all started when we first moved in to our condo on the outskirts of Boulder. Boulder is a Dog Town, and what should make our little subdivision any different?
We "inherited" two cats from New Orleans shortly after we moved in, in what began as an extended catsitting venture. Yup, eventually, they were ours! And at this point we wouldn't trade having them for anything in the world. Well, just about anything.... ;)
So, we started letting the cats outside a few months after we realized we were keeping them, and we quickly discovered that no one, and I mean NO ONE, keeps their dog on a leash around here! Our backyard happens to border a footpath used by runners & dog-walkers galore. And everyonnnnne seems to have a dog (or two, or three....).
I always tried to be polite: "Would you mind putting your dog on a leash, just through this part of the neighborhood?" I'd say. "My dog will do whatever the hell he/she wants to do!" was often the 5th-grade response I'd get. Or even better: "Oh, don't be silly, my dog won't chase your cat," they'd say, as I'd watch the dogs scurrying across the grass, up the fence, ready to chomp on our kitties. Always oblivious to their owners' incessant shouting in the background, of course.
OK, so I will admit, part of the problem was our cats not knowing exactly HOW to run away from a dog. They'd sit there and puff up their tails, or hiss & try to paw at the dogs. Not the best tactic in the world!
Anyhoo, eventually our kitties learned, the dog-walkers didn't change, and we've managed to live in a semi-cohesive happy animal-human community ever since.
Or so I thought.
A few weeks ago, my image of that community was shattered. Remember Grasshopper, our resident Kitty Clubhouse friend & loiterer? Well apparently one of our friendly neighbors decided they'd had it with the loitering. They decided to take the matter into their own hands.
Grasshopper had been hanging around on our deck for most of the day. He lives a couple blocks away and we know his owner, but it has never bothered us that he seemed to prefer our deck. Well it was getting to be dusk and he disappeared for about 20 minutes, and when he returned he seemed to be limping.
"What's that on his paws??" my husband said as he peeked out on to the deck. I opened the screen door and saw that there was something blue sticking out of his fur, and something was definitely not right. As I got closer, I realized it was a plastic "zip tie" (often used to tie electrical wires together) zipped tightly around his front and back paws! I couldn't believe it! Someone had done this deliberately, and poor Grasshopper was in pain.
As Todd ran inside to call the owner, I found my garden clippers and managed to cut the front one off. The back one, not so easy. It was tightly clamped right around the joint of his hind leg, and it obviously hurt him when I tried to get the clippers underneath. He started to writhe and hiss, and I feared that I wouldn't be able to get it off and he'd run away and hide with his foot circulation cut off. When animals are hurt you never know how they're going to react. Luckily, Grasshopper is such an easy-going cat that I was eventually able to get the clippers underneath and get it off without getting scratched. Much to his relief!
I kept imagining the same thing happening to our cats, and pictured them simply hiding away in a dark place somewhere, trying to bite it off themselves. I doubt they'd be brave enough to limp home, like Grasshopper did.
Who could do such a thing?? Someone would have to have a lot of hate to deliberately torture an innocent creature like that.
The owner called the police that night, who filed a report but said it was probably some cat-hating person who had done such a thing, trying to send a message in some strange way.
I went around asking the neighbors about it over the next couple of days, and got mixed reactions about it. "Well I can't imagine anyone in OUR neighborhood doing something like that," they'd say. "Although that cat was definitely a nuisance." Yet there were no clues as to who had done it, or exactly why. We were afraid to let our cats out, thinking there was a crazy animal-torturer out there, lurking in the shadows of the streets, ready to strike again.
Skip to a week or so later, and our Solly went missing for the day. I walked all over the place calling her, thinking she may have run off due to the workmen in our area that day. I tried to keep thoughts of the animal-torturer from my head as I searched and searched.
Finally, as I came back to our cul-de-sac, I saw some of our neighbors arguing in the street. One being Pepper's owner (remember Pepper?), visibly angered. As I walked up, I heard him spit out: "They have your cat." What?? They "have" my cat?? Both relief and curiosity filled me at the same time. What had happened?
"Well, no," explained the neighbor briskly, "We don't 'have' your cat. We came home and your cat had broken into our house and we thought it was a wildcat and tried to shoo it out with a broom." She then added, "he's mad about something else."
"They're the ones who tortured Grasshopper!" he said, looking like he was ready to drag them out into the street and have at it. I looked questioningly at the neighbor, still wondering what the deal was with Solly.
"Well, my husband has done work with animals before," she said, "so he knew what to do. He was just trying to get a message across to his owner." OK, 'work with animals?' 'message to the owner?' Ever heard of calling Animal Control???
"We have a child. We have to think of our child. We can't have cats bringing germs around," she said, matter-of-factly.
I don't understand it, and I never will. If you're having a problem with someone's pet, the last thing you should do is torture it! These people obviously had no concept of what it's like to be a pet-owner, assuming that their being a kid-owner overrules everything.
The sad part of the story is that Grasshopper's owner ended up taking him to the Humane Society because she didn't feel like she could keep him without letting him out. Chances are, the minute she would let him out again, he would come right back over to our street. He probably really just needs to be on a farm somewhere, somewhere he can roam all day. Not in a condo in Boulder.
But the happy part of the story is that I managed to find Solly. It turned out that their screen door was ripped open and across, and they had left only that closed for the day while they were out. "We leave it broken so that our 3-year-old can climb in and out through it," they explained. OK, so you think cats are going to bring in germs? What about skunks and raccoons and all the other little rodents that hang out behind our houses?? Like I said, I don't get it.
"Well we didn't realize it was your cat so we chased it around with a broom," she said. Even though they've met Solly on numerous occasions and I've helped their precious child pet her before! Anyway, not that I'm bitter or anything. "Feel free to walk around the house and look for her if you want!" they said, trying to brighten the obviously tense mood.
I walked around the house, wondering where to look, and went upstairs to look under the bed. Sure enough, tucked away in a teeny-tiny corner was the teeny-tiny cowering ball of my kitty. Trembling with fear, she wouldn't even come out when I called her and I had to pull her out with my hands. As the child came running in, Solly winced and trembled even more, and I remembered that she is completely freaked out by little kids. Between that and the broom, I'm guessing she'd been hiding there all day, terrified to come out.
I breathed a big sigh of relief.
Till the next drama.....
The menacing "wildcat".....
Grasshopper, we will miss you!!!
