back out to Alpine Grove and asked if she could meet with him again.
“Larry, I’d like to go out to the property again tomorrow, if that’s okay,” she said. “I know the smell probably isn’t fixed yet, but I didn’t see all the dogs and cats. I’d really like to meet them and talk to the pet sitter who has been working with them since my aunt died.”
The lawyer cleared his throat, “Yes, I’d be happy to meet you there. I’ll give Cindy a call and see if she can meet with us as well.”
“Great! Oh, I have one other question. I can’t stay at Chez, um, I mean my aunt’s place, because I know I can’t handle the smell. But since I will be up there for a while, I’d like to bring my cat. Do you know of any pet-friendly motels where I might be able to stay?”
“Yes, the Enchanted Moose allows pets. It’s an older RV park and motel off the highway. It’s not perhaps the nicest place in town, but they do have little kitchenettes and it’s quite affordable.”
“I won’t be there for long, I hope,” Kat replied. “I’ll give them a call. ”
Kat hung up the phone and pondered how best to deal with Murphee, since she was determined to drive out to Alpine Grove today. The first trick would be to get the cat into her travel carrier. To say Murphee was not fond of it would be an understatement. The cat clearly believed that the carrier was an evil agent of doom. It didn’t help that most of the cat’s experience with the carrier involved trips to the veterinarian. Kat had read all the books that extolled the idea of letting the cat get used to the carrier by leaving it out in a high-traffic area of the house, so it became just part of the furniture. The idea was that the cat would be curious, go in, and take a nap in the nice snuggly little plastic box. However, Murphee chose not to use the carrier as a bed. Instead, after a particularly traumatic check-up at the vet, she apparently viewed it as a litter box. The cat expressed her enthusiasm by relieving herself on the evil carrier when it was sitting in the middle of the living room floor.
Obviously, with Murphee the classic advice from the cat-care books wasn’t going to work. Kat needed the element of surprise. Food might help, too. Kat tiptoed around the apartment to determine where Murphee was currently napping. She found the cat quietly snoring on the bed and closed the bedroom door to keep her confined. Carefully opening the closet door, Kat quietly pulled the kitty carrier down from the top shelf where she had hidden it after the last excursion.
She brought the carrier to the living room and set it on end on the living room floor. Reaching down quietly, Kat opened the metal mesh door, trying to avoid any jarring clanging noises that would alert the feline. Returning to the bedroom, Kat opened the door and said in a sickly sweet voice, “Hi, Murpheeee….how’s my little lovey cat? Are you sleepy?” The cat raised her head, cocked one ear, and looked at Kat dubiously.
Kat gently picked up the cat around her middle and tucked Murphee’s body under her arm, so she could grip the front paws with one hand and the scruff of her neck with the other. With as much nonchalance as possible, she carried the sleepy cat out to the living room, pretending not to notice the suspicious plastic box in the middle the floor. But Murphee’s gaze latched onto the dreaded carrier immediately and she tensed in Kat’s arms. Kat knew she’d have to act fast.
As it dawned on Murphee exactly what Kat was up to, the cat went into full power-kitty berserk mode, paddling all of her legs and extending her claws. Gripping the cat’s scruff more tightly, Kat bent over the carrier, attempting to dump the cat nose-down through the door into the box.
She had been so close. But with a mighty squall of anger, Murphee braced her front paws on the sides of the carrier doorway. At the same time, the cat was using her rear claws to scratch anything in range, which
Carl-Johan Forssén Ehrlin