So a couple of weeks ago I told of how our cat Leon had run away, and was now living in our basement. Well, this evening at work I got a call from Mary, who tells me that she is at the vet with.... the real Leon, which means that the cat in the basement is.... you guessed it, an Impostor! The nerve of the cat. We had a definitive ID on Leon from the microchip he had implanted in his neck.
Truth be told, I had thought that the cat looked a little different from Leon and even meowed a little different, but I figured he had been off in the wild for 5-6 weeks and so he had changed a little, manned up, as it were.
And now Leon is back and is so much friendlier and more trusting than ever he was before, and all are overjoyed. Except for the poor sweet woman who had been feeding him for only the last 5 days, had been in fact plying him with eggplant parmesan, which she said he had taken a shine to (indeed, what's not to like with a nice eggplant parm). She apparently was moved to tears when it became clear at the vet that Leon was lost from his former home. We will have to have her by.
Friday, February 17, 2012
It gets better
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2 comments:
I shared your story about Leon and not-Leon with the family tonight (I'm a bit behind on catching up with my RSS reader...), and now everyone is dying to know: what happened to not-Leon!
This is the stuff of Hollywood comedy--of the good type. Come on, man. You know how to write. Play this one out. This is great stuff.
Give us an update, please, about what's happened to poor not-Leon. Is he still imprisoned in your basement? Have you turned him back out into the wild? What's going on with him?
Todd, sorry. So what happened is this. Graham and I went for a bike ride, and at the end I put my bike back in the basement...
The next day, a master cat catcher-rescuer lady came by with a special trap to help Mary catch the not-Leon -- whom I had come to refer to as "Noel" -- for obvious reasons. The plan was to take Noel, have him fixed, and either try to place him with a family or release him back into the wild, where at least he wouldn't procreate.
When they went to the basement, they found the door wide open. Apparently someone (me!) hadn't pulled the door to all the way, and Noel had escaped once more into the woods, free to chase the many deer, terrorize baby birds (wild songbird populations are down around the lower 48 due to the lack of predators for cats) and tussle with possums...
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