Oops, bet you won’t do that again!

By isak, December 14, 2008

I was washing the dishes this morning and heard a small bang. It felt like it was somewhere nearby, so I thought maybe the shampoo had blown off the window sill in the bathroom. There was a pretty strong wind gusting in the open windows from the north. It didn’t sound like anything broke, so I kept doing what I was doing. About 3-4 minutes later, the napping dogs on the back porch all jumped up and went racing across the yard. Chasing a squirrel, I thought. This time of year with there being no leaves on the trees, the squirrels are quite obvious. But something in the dog barks sounded different, more excited.

I tried to see them through the kitchen window, but they were so close to the house, I couldn’t see very well. But from what I could see, it seemed like the squirrel might be on the ground. Not good; few escape routes in that position… so I ran to the backdoor.

Once I got out on the porch, I saw fat Frankie clinging to a post on the back porch surrounded by jumping, barking dogs… about 12-15 jumping, barking dogs. I moved over to Frankie and speaking in a calm voice, try to pry him off the post. Man, did he have a grip on that post with every claw he has. I made a mental note that cliching him to my body would probably hurt like hell if those claws found purchase in my flesh.

After so wrangling — you know how that goes, get three feet unstuck, then one re-attaches itself, get another foot unstuck and another one re-attaches — I manage to get Frankie’s feet pried off the post. With my hands wrapped around his body under this forearms and holding him slightly in front of me, we headed back to the door.

Once inside, I set him on a high surface and off he ran. For the next couple hours, I could not find him.

Frankie went out the screen window in the office. I am not sure how he did it: did he lunge for a bird and push the screen out? Did he get his claws caught in the screen and somehow push the screen out trying to get loose? The dogs kept sniffing an area in the backyard that was about 30 feet from the house. I wonder if that’s how far he got in the yard before he was spotted.

No matter, he is surely a lucky little man (well, fat, but little). I wonder how many of those built-in nine lives he had to trade in for his life?

Frankie and his brother, Diego, have been with me since they were about 10 days old. They were born out in the woods, but it is believed their mother was killed. Their screams were the thing that saved their lives. They have been in the house since then raised around other cats and dogs. In the winter, Frankie likes to sleep snuggled against the belly of a large dog. He does not know to be afraid of dogs. And he does not know that the rules for cat-dog relationships changes once you go outside. Once outside, a cat becomes something a dog chases.