Sparky spent last Tuesday night in prison. He is home now, quite chastened, and demonstrating a deeper understanding of Johnny Cash‘s music. So far as I can tell, he did not get any cellblock tattoos.
The bad boy has, for quite some time and without my knowledge, been pooping and chasing birds in a yard half a block down the street. The neighbor didn’t know he was my cat (yes, yes, the boy does have a tag; I’ve since gotten him a bigger one), trapped him, and took him to the pound. There he was scanned with a microchip reader, I was identified as his owner and notified, and headed down to bail him out to the tune of $30. (A second offense is $50; subsequent offenses are $75 each. Let’s hope he’s learned his lesson.)
The pound folks told me he had been trapped, but weren’t allowed to say who had turned him in, so this weekend Melissa and I went door to door, introducing ourselves and giving neighbors pictures of Sparky with my contact information. At the houses where no-one was home, we left a photo and note. None of the folks we talked to had any complaints about the lad—either they knew him and liked him or they hadn’t ever seen him.
Last night, I got a call from the guy “what brung ‘im in.” We talked and agreed that if Sparky starts coming over unannounced again—he’s stayed out of the yard since the whole cage-slamming-shut-getting-driven-across-town-and-thrown-into-a-cell thing—I will provide a trap, then come pick the bad boy up once he’s been caught in hopes of teaching him that this particular yard is best avoided. I’ve also agreed to buy a bell to add to his collar to help prevent his hunting birds. (To the best of my knowledge the boy has never caught a thing, but clearly he has a secret life I know little about.)
Prison does not seem to have hardened Sparky. In fact, he is more affectionate than ever. Let us hope we have no recidivism.
And hope he doesn’t turn the other cats to a life of crime.
Oh my. Good Kitty No More… Oh Sparky, naughty one.
I’m sure that the slamming of the trap would be enough to keep such a smart cat out of that particular yard, unless he gets addicted to the sound. hehe What a cute jailbird picture.
My old dog Buster also had a hidden life: after his passing I found out that 1/2 the neighborhood let him in regularly for a snooze, fed him & loved him as one of their own! That rascal – he was schmoozing all the dog-lovers out there! On the down-side – I also found out that he & his buddy, a Doberman, killed a young cat they had managed to corner. Ba-a-a-a-a-d Buster!
I hope Sparky has learned his lesson & keeps his wandering to his own yard. NO MORE LOST CATS!!
I also can sympathize with your messy office – I have one, too. To calm me, I have a large golf painting (4×4 feet)on the wall directly across from my desk. I’m not a golfer – and there’s no people in this picture, just an extremely green scene of a pond, trees & oh yeah – the golf course! And I also have pics of my other favorite things – horses & cats. Ahhh – serenity. But when you guys come here to visit – be prepared to find a house with LOTS of boxes of stuff – both my own & for my antiques biz, all over the house. I’m trying desperately to hone it all down some before you get here, but I’m not making any promises. The guest bedroom, however, is free of crap & you can rest assured you won’t be stumbling over any boxes if you get up in the middle of the night. (If you guys spend a night at my place, that is, before we head to the Poconos.) OK – happy grading! Ta-ta.
Oh bad Sparky! My Waldo has a thing for birds. Hates them! But he’s not been able to catch a thing. lol. He isn’t the adventurous type though and hasn’t ever left the yard. I hope a night in the slammer teaches Sparky a lesson
So, is that really a real picture of Sparky in jail? Something about the arms and the bars, hmmmm, can’t quite put my finger (paw) on it.
Anyway, glad he’s home safe and sound and thank goodness for microchips!