Hide and Seek
Winnie hides so well it seems like she has an invisible button she turns on and off at will. It's only by God's grace that she has never escaped through an open door to the outside world.
She had only been with me a month the first time I "lost" her. I'd been busy around the apartment, cleaning, packing for our upcoming move to another apartment. As time passed, I became aware that I hadn't seen my kitty for awhile, so I went looking for her. And looking, and looking. I looked everywhere and when a thorough search failed to yield results, I searched again. Now, this is a one bedroom - not so huge - apartment; how many places could a cat hide? I knew the entry door hadn't been opened. She had to be here. Could she have fallen down one of the loose heating grates to the basement? Another check showed all grates intact. I searched again; I called her name; I shook her treat bag -- that had never failed to work. No Winnie. I was frantic - she could NOT have disappeared into thin air - could she? As I started my third methodical search of the premises, I heard a very faint meow - just one; sounded like it came from the bathroom. This time I noticed what I hadn't on my last two searches; the large linen closet door was open -- I had already checked it thoroughly. The closet butted up against the bathtub and at the bottom of the closet was a cut-out area leading to the tub pipes. This opening was covered with a thick wooden slab - not screwed in, just fitting not quite snug against the opening. I now saw the gap between the slab and the open hole. I quickly moved the slab aside and peered in and there, on the other side of an open hole leading to the basement, was my Winnie. She was trying to maneouver around the maze of pipes and avoid that gaping hole that would send her plunging straight to the basement. She was scared to come closer to me and I didn't have much head room to reach in and grab her. I coaxed and coaxed her, talking softly to her and eventually she got close enough for me to get my hands around her little body. It was tricky, but I managed to extricate her. In spite of my scare, I had to laugh when she looked up at me, her eyes huge, little face covered almost entirely with thick, dirty cobwebs. I cleaned her off; took the opportunity to clean the cobwebs from the pipes while I was at it. Got out hammer and nails and nailed that slab to the wall so good I knew someone would be cursing if they had to get access to those pipes in the future. I also secured all the loose coverings on the heating vents now that I knew how creative cats can be in their quests to explore "hidden" places. I now know that nothing is hidden from a cat's ever vigilant, ever searching eyes.
The apartment we moved into next had none of those nooks and crannies for Win to hide in. Try as she might, she couldn't find any deep dark tunnels to burrow in. She settled for hiding under the bed, in the closets when I left the doors open for her, under the bed covers, and I'm sure she wasn't thrilled that I knew every spot she could possibly hide in. Different story when we moved to a larger apartment downstairs - she was in her glory and I'm sure if cats could giggle, she spent much time giggling while listening to me go around the apartment looking for her, calling her. The treat bag usually did the trick but I could seldom see where she had been hiding, 'cause the moment I went into her treat cupboard, she'd come running before I had a chance to see where she'd come from. Just when I thought I knew all her hiding spots, she found another one and the game was on again!
My brother Larry lived a short distance from us and came over in the morning while I was at work -- ostensibly to use the computer -- but really, he had developed quite a fondness for my Winnie. He would feed her, give her treats, was super conscientious about her safety and well-being. They got along famously. I came home from work one afternoon to find Larry upset and visibly shaken. Seems he had come in, petted Win, and did some research on the 'net. At one point, he left the building to go down the street to the store. When he came back, Winnie didn't greet him at the apartment door as was her custom. He looked around the apartment, couldn't find her, started searching all known hiding places, couldn't find her, did a more thorough search -- no Winnie. Getting a bit worried, he went out of the apartment and up the stairs to our previous apartment -- Win had taken to getting out our door at the first opportunity (more about that later) - and running up the stairs. Once upstairs, she would just sniff around the small common area; I'd be right behind her to grab her and bring her back down. Well, Winnie wasn't there either. He came back into the apartment and searched again. As he passed the bedroom, the sun was shining brightly through the window and he spotted a shadow behind the curtain. He pushed aside the curtain to see a little cat blinking up at him with that "why are you disturbing me?" look that she gets when she is - well - disturbed from her rest.
Larry said that as he had been coming down the stairs, he looked at the entrance door to the outside and considered going through that door and never coming back. I told him if he had lost my cat, that would be the wisest course of action but I laughed so much at his tale of woe; he was sure Winnie had shaved five years off his life. We added the curtains to our ever-growing list of Winnie's hiding places but that didn't stop the same thing from happening to me a few weeks later. Same thing -- Winnie was there one minute, I went out to get the mail and when I looked for Win minutes later, I couldn't find her. I even looked behind the curtains; couldn't find her -- ran upstairs to see if she had gone out with me -- no sign of her. Panicked, I called my neighbouring tenant to come and help me look. We searched high and low and as we were about to go out to the car to drive around the neighbourhood, lo and behold...Winnie appears from the direction of the bedroom; stood looking at us as if to say "what's all the commotion about out here?" Although I had lifted up the duvet that was in a pile on the bed, she must have crawled into the folds and disappeared.
I'm convinced that all this little girl wants is to find a spot she can hide in to her heart's delight, without being discovered until she chooses to be. I, on the other hand, have to know where she is, in case I need to grab her in an emergency and get her out of the apartment. I am trying to be less obtrusive by pretending to be doing something else, while my eyes peer into the nooks and crannies of a room she may be in. When I do spot her, I leave her to her own devices and pretend I haven't seen her. I also check on her occasionally -- in the same sneaky manner -- to make sure she's okay. She's such a quiet little cat, I'm not sure she'd make much of a ruckus if she did run into difficulties. I've watched her enough times trying to pull open doors and drawers by getting her paws under the bottom of the dressers, tables and cupboards; she's gone into dresser drawers and worked her way behind the drawer under her and become stuck behind that drawer. She certainly does require a bit of vigilance!
She had only been with me a month the first time I "lost" her. I'd been busy around the apartment, cleaning, packing for our upcoming move to another apartment. As time passed, I became aware that I hadn't seen my kitty for awhile, so I went looking for her. And looking, and looking. I looked everywhere and when a thorough search failed to yield results, I searched again. Now, this is a one bedroom - not so huge - apartment; how many places could a cat hide? I knew the entry door hadn't been opened. She had to be here. Could she have fallen down one of the loose heating grates to the basement? Another check showed all grates intact. I searched again; I called her name; I shook her treat bag -- that had never failed to work. No Winnie. I was frantic - she could NOT have disappeared into thin air - could she? As I started my third methodical search of the premises, I heard a very faint meow - just one; sounded like it came from the bathroom. This time I noticed what I hadn't on my last two searches; the large linen closet door was open -- I had already checked it thoroughly. The closet butted up against the bathtub and at the bottom of the closet was a cut-out area leading to the tub pipes. This opening was covered with a thick wooden slab - not screwed in, just fitting not quite snug against the opening. I now saw the gap between the slab and the open hole. I quickly moved the slab aside and peered in and there, on the other side of an open hole leading to the basement, was my Winnie. She was trying to maneouver around the maze of pipes and avoid that gaping hole that would send her plunging straight to the basement. She was scared to come closer to me and I didn't have much head room to reach in and grab her. I coaxed and coaxed her, talking softly to her and eventually she got close enough for me to get my hands around her little body. It was tricky, but I managed to extricate her. In spite of my scare, I had to laugh when she looked up at me, her eyes huge, little face covered almost entirely with thick, dirty cobwebs. I cleaned her off; took the opportunity to clean the cobwebs from the pipes while I was at it. Got out hammer and nails and nailed that slab to the wall so good I knew someone would be cursing if they had to get access to those pipes in the future. I also secured all the loose coverings on the heating vents now that I knew how creative cats can be in their quests to explore "hidden" places. I now know that nothing is hidden from a cat's ever vigilant, ever searching eyes.
The apartment we moved into next had none of those nooks and crannies for Win to hide in. Try as she might, she couldn't find any deep dark tunnels to burrow in. She settled for hiding under the bed, in the closets when I left the doors open for her, under the bed covers, and I'm sure she wasn't thrilled that I knew every spot she could possibly hide in. Different story when we moved to a larger apartment downstairs - she was in her glory and I'm sure if cats could giggle, she spent much time giggling while listening to me go around the apartment looking for her, calling her. The treat bag usually did the trick but I could seldom see where she had been hiding, 'cause the moment I went into her treat cupboard, she'd come running before I had a chance to see where she'd come from. Just when I thought I knew all her hiding spots, she found another one and the game was on again!
My brother Larry lived a short distance from us and came over in the morning while I was at work -- ostensibly to use the computer -- but really, he had developed quite a fondness for my Winnie. He would feed her, give her treats, was super conscientious about her safety and well-being. They got along famously. I came home from work one afternoon to find Larry upset and visibly shaken. Seems he had come in, petted Win, and did some research on the 'net. At one point, he left the building to go down the street to the store. When he came back, Winnie didn't greet him at the apartment door as was her custom. He looked around the apartment, couldn't find her, started searching all known hiding places, couldn't find her, did a more thorough search -- no Winnie. Getting a bit worried, he went out of the apartment and up the stairs to our previous apartment -- Win had taken to getting out our door at the first opportunity (more about that later) - and running up the stairs. Once upstairs, she would just sniff around the small common area; I'd be right behind her to grab her and bring her back down. Well, Winnie wasn't there either. He came back into the apartment and searched again. As he passed the bedroom, the sun was shining brightly through the window and he spotted a shadow behind the curtain. He pushed aside the curtain to see a little cat blinking up at him with that "why are you disturbing me?" look that she gets when she is - well - disturbed from her rest.
Larry said that as he had been coming down the stairs, he looked at the entrance door to the outside and considered going through that door and never coming back. I told him if he had lost my cat, that would be the wisest course of action but I laughed so much at his tale of woe; he was sure Winnie had shaved five years off his life. We added the curtains to our ever-growing list of Winnie's hiding places but that didn't stop the same thing from happening to me a few weeks later. Same thing -- Winnie was there one minute, I went out to get the mail and when I looked for Win minutes later, I couldn't find her. I even looked behind the curtains; couldn't find her -- ran upstairs to see if she had gone out with me -- no sign of her. Panicked, I called my neighbouring tenant to come and help me look. We searched high and low and as we were about to go out to the car to drive around the neighbourhood, lo and behold...Winnie appears from the direction of the bedroom; stood looking at us as if to say "what's all the commotion about out here?" Although I had lifted up the duvet that was in a pile on the bed, she must have crawled into the folds and disappeared.
I'm convinced that all this little girl wants is to find a spot she can hide in to her heart's delight, without being discovered until she chooses to be. I, on the other hand, have to know where she is, in case I need to grab her in an emergency and get her out of the apartment. I am trying to be less obtrusive by pretending to be doing something else, while my eyes peer into the nooks and crannies of a room she may be in. When I do spot her, I leave her to her own devices and pretend I haven't seen her. I also check on her occasionally -- in the same sneaky manner -- to make sure she's okay. She's such a quiet little cat, I'm not sure she'd make much of a ruckus if she did run into difficulties. I've watched her enough times trying to pull open doors and drawers by getting her paws under the bottom of the dressers, tables and cupboards; she's gone into dresser drawers and worked her way behind the drawer under her and become stuck behind that drawer. She certainly does require a bit of vigilance!