I’m going to start with one of my most recent moving experiences. I always wish for an uneventful move, that’s the best kind, this was not that. Franklin, TN to Highlands Ranch, CO. After two days on the road with a sedated bull dog on the brink of death (I will back track to that at another time) and an exhausted but seriously sturdy family, we arrived at the hotel where we would be waiting for 5 days to get into our new home. I go a little overboard on pet safety, especially for cats. I get this quality very honestly from my mom. It’s a lot of “shut that door, the cat will get out”, “don’t open the carrier in the car, he may escape”. It borders on paranoia. The flack that I get from my family for this is unrelenting but I think that they are slightly entertained by it. We arrive at the hotel and the first thing I say is “Check for holes or anything Leo can get into.” They laugh and do it anyway. We’re all clear. Isabella, my daughter, discovered one tiny little opening under a sink and we agreed to just keep that door shut. Three days later my nightmare comes true. Isabella runs in. “Leo is inside the wall!” The bathroom door was left open and he squeezed himself into that hole and couldn’t get out. He’s made his way behind the shower stall, into the raw space of the hotel, and is now trying to get out of the 2 inch opening of a pocket door on the other side. Pawing and meowing, trying to get his 4 inch face through that small opening. He clearly wants out. It’s that moment when you realize you’ve made a horrible mistake that will not go unnoticed by others. I mean for him, not me.The girls run to get the hotel manager. They’re out the door when I realize I’m only half dressed. Bra and pants, that’s it. I scream, they run back in giggling with a shirt. Hmmmm. Makes me wonder just a bit. They come back with the manager, Angela and maintenance manager, Gary. We can all hear Leo meowing desperately. We go through all of the different scenarios. Should we take the sink off? Can we get the pocket door off the track? Can we lure the cat back out the way he went in? No. None of those work. Finally, Gary removes the trim around the pocket door in hopes that it will make that 2 inch opening wide enough. Not big enough. He leaves and comes back with a metal saw. He cuts the door off the hinges and pulls it down. It sounded like a jack hammer tearing up a street but it worked. That opening was now big enough but there is silence. No more meowing. My stomach flips. Most cats would have retreated into the guts of the hotel for 3 days but this cat is particularly social and does not love alone time. So we all start our coochie cooing sounds, which I quickly discovered are different for everyone. I’m doing a little sing songy bit….”Leoooo , Coooome cuuuuddle with Maaaama”. Angela, the manager, is making a hissing snake sound. Not kidding. I think she’s a dog person. I look at her… she got the message. After about 5 minutes Leo emerges all covered in dust and insulation. It was Christmas in July. We’re in our new house now and he’s still imprisoned in a bedroom. I think what we all learned here is that Mom was right.
