Dot can do that, and it drives me up the wall when I’m trying to put flea stuff on everyone, or it’s time for a vet visit. I plan on starting to look for her at least 12 hours before I need her, or I don’t have a chance. Some of it is the fact that if they can get their head though an opening their body will go through it, so thinking that an opening is too small for a cat only indicates that you haven’t seen a determined cat. Having to dismantle a dryer to get a cat, not a kitten, an 8 pound adult cat, out who had entered through the vent after pulling off the flex tubing will make a believer in “cat space” out of anyone.

When I moved from Arizona to California, I had everything all packed up in the U-Haul, and my pickup truck on the trailer behind the U-Haul. There was nothing left to do but put the cats into their carriers and put them in the cab of the U-Haul with me (separate carriers — Mencken gets rather annoyed if forced to spend too much time in close proximity with TMF, and fur tends to fly if he can’t move away and get some Mencken-space).

So TMF was easy enough. Remember, the house is empty other than their cat box, water bowl, and kitty carriers. I walked around, spotted TMF looking out the back window at the kitteh theater, grabbed him, and put him into his carrier (easier said than done but my technique — back him in by pushing on his nose — works fine with a bit of nudging of his hindquarters to guide them, cats don’t like humans pushing on their nose and back up to get away).

Okay one cat down. Now… where’s Mencken? I walked every single room of the house and looked into every closet, including up on the shelves. No Mencken. The house is empty, remember, other than the washer/dryer and the refrigerator. I started out looking behind the washer/dryer and even *in* them. No cat. I walk into the kitchen and pull out the refrigerator to see if he somehow managed to sneak behind or under it. No cat. I am baffled, and take a break to drink a cola. By this time roughly an hour has passed. I’m supposed to be on the road, not hunting for cats. Did he

So what’s left? Cabinets, duh! Well, I had checked cabinets to see if anything was in them before closing all the cabinet doors to keep cats out of them, but okay, I’ll check again. And I did. I opened each and every cabinet. Until finally I found Mencken — in that tiny cabinet over the refrigerator.

I swear that he wasn’t there the first time I checked. I swear I closed the cabinet door after checking to see if that cabinet was empty. All I can figure is that he was hanging out in “cat space”. Sorta a fourth dimension that cats can disappear into when they absolutely, positively don’t want to be found.

– Badtux the Cheshire-cat-owned Penguin

my present crew pretty much covers the rainbow, in personality if not in color. there’s tiger grrrl, a koshka act-alike or two, some wary, a too-lazy-to-move, and a couple of overtly friendly.

they all show great unity of purpose and focus when the squirrels show up outside the windows though. 🙂

After she grew up, my Mother never saw Koshka. Every time she visited my place Koshka would hide out in “cat space” until my Mother was gone. Some cats are like that.

Whether it’s a cat or a dog, you have to let them make the first move. I watch the judges at cat shows picking up cats and handling them and I just cringe. The people who own those cats must have spent almost all of their time programming those cats not to shred judges, because I wouldn’t even consider trying to pick up a cat the way the judges do.

My present crew treats everyone like they were Jehovah’s Witnesses, and hide behind the couch.

The problem is that it is always the bears that lose, and we still have to deal with the “tourons”.

We need to import Alaskan moose. I never worried about bears in Alaska, but everyone went armed because of the moose. They are flat insane and the adults weigh 1500 pounds.

We have people freaking out down here whenever they see a bear, but these are small black bears and will run if you let them. Most of the problems occur when the fools get them cornered against a fence, and the bear freaks out, wanting to get away with some moron between it and freedom.

I was never around the big browns down in Southern Alaska, and had no intention of being on their range, or the range of the Grizzlies, because I don’t go looking for trouble. Too many has gone to “Bear Country Jamboree” and expect that sort of experience to occur in the wild.

I certainly didn’t think you were on the 650 when it was attacked – there was no hospital stay mentioned.