We had to get Houdini, the feral cat, out of the basement. That was simply a must. Tim and I tried to capture him gently, but it was not to be done. In the end, in fear, he dashed up the stairs to the kitchen. We came upstairs and closed the door to the basement. That was that. He was upstairs.
He had shot out of the kitchen and gone to God knows where, but after two days of not eating, we found him tucked up behind the antique floor model radio. (Still works, if you're curious). We herded him to the kitchen where his food was and his litter pan tucked away.
He stayed hidden. He ignored the chicken which was simmered until it fell off the bone and was turned in tortilla soup. He ignored his spoonful of beef cutlets in gravy. He ignored the tuna fish oil water which he normally laps right up. He did pick at his dry food and drank half a bowl of water, waiting of course until after we had gone to bed and the house was dark and quiet.
He was no where to be seen in the morning.
William and Tim headed out today. William needed a hair cut. They were also going to play Santa Claus, delivering our small gifts and thank yous to the tenants. Tim and William were also doing some whispering which I did not quite understand.
But I was on my 8th or 9th load of laundry and folding to do. I had a list of other chores to tick off my list. I stayed home to get things accomplished.
When they returned home, guess who was curled up in his cozy heated bed? Guess who looked up at William as he spoke gently to him, and even allowed him a tentative stroke down his back?
I am feeling a bit more hopeful about that cat.