Saturday was all about Katie and Mike. Not Harry and Hazel. Not old Hilton Head Island tales. Not our cross-country adventure. Oh, no, not a bit. It was all Katie and Mike.
Here’s a photo of Katie with Mike. Looks pretty tame, eh? Just a guy (who looks a bit like Donavan McNabb) holding Katie Kittie, looking up with admiration.
Well, that ‘s just the end of the story. I took the photo about 5pm, at the end of several hours of fear, worry, and work. It all ended up fine, so we can look back on it with smiles. But it sure didn’t feel so hot while it was happening.
Because Sadie the lab who lives here doesn’t prefer the company of cats, Katie is restricted to my “suite” at Harry’s fine old house, which he has wonderfully restored. Well, mostly restored. Where he has not yet restored is here, in our accommodations. And it turns out that Katie Kittie went exploring this morning, found the uncovered hole in the floorboards, and disappeared. No sounds, no nothing.
I preferred to think that she escaped through the 1” open window, figuring she could spend hours exploring historic Waukegan, knowing that if she were in the house – even between the floorboards – she’d be making some noise. And there was none.
Harry had the brilliant idea to call a plumber/sewer service, to see if they could snake a camera down through the floor to see if she were there. That’s where Mike arrives into our story. He is The Man. He spotted her after about 15 minutes, but we struggled for over an hour, to coax her out, trying tuna, treats, mama’s voice, mama’s face, everything. We could see her in the camera, but the light might have added to her trauma, and she actually moved backward for a time.
Meanwhile Harry was tearing up carpet and flooring, only to find another floor under that. So he took a break, sat down on the bed, and we talked to Mike about other things while he continued to work the “snake.” He said he was trying to clear out insulation and enlarge the opening to encourage Katie to come. And all the sudden he sits up and says, “Lookie here,” and there she was – Katie Kitte herself, dusty and dumfounded, but fine and dandy.
She came to me and lay her head on my shoulder, just like a baby. No purring, no crying, no looking, just resting. I think she knew she’d had a bad day and was glad to be back with her humans.
So that’s the story of Katie and Mike. Our Hero Mike went on his way home, and Katie went back to her food bowls and litter box. Harry and I and Hazel went out for a filling dinner at the Paragon. Our heroine has been sitting on the bed, cleaning off the residue of dust, then quickly conking out with fatigue from her day of touring the old floors of Harry’s home on Genesee St.
I’ve decided to accompany Hazel to church Sunday (her Jewish friend in California casual) just because. :>)) All is well.