It is said that he who elects to go to war with a cat loses. And yea verily, that may be true.
Notwithstanding, the Realm of the Queen of the Universe and Empress of All Time, Space, and Eternity finds itself locked in combat with Other Daughter‘s pretty little, annoying little red tortoiseshell tabby.
Kitty, as you may recall, has been committing a variety of depredations around the queendom, the final straw of which has been converting the backyard into a gigantic cat loo, wherein Kitty likes to deposit little gifts for Cassie to eat.
Ruling out chemical warfare for a variety of reasons, I tried lashing a long row of carpet tacks to the top of the block walls around the yard. Looked pretty good, didn’t it?
Well, apparently Kitty thought so, too. Twice while I was sitting in the dining room munching my breakfast, what should I see but Kitty atop the wall, delicately stepping around and over the tack strips with all the grace of a prima ballerina. Argha!
One row of “extra wide” carpet tack strips, then, does not suffice to repel a cat determined to jump on top of your six-foot wall.
All right. Now we’ll see if two rows will do the trick.
Two tack strips laid side by side pretty well cover the top of the cinderblocks, except for the capstones atop the pillars. And this time instead of trying to tie the damn things on with string, I strapped them on with plastic zip-ties — the weather-resistant variety. Et voilà!
{cackle!} If that doesn’t work, nothing will!
Now, I really don’t know what to do about the wall’s supporting columns. Each of these is topped by a thin block, creating a relatively smooth objet that, unlike the wall with its decorative top row, offers noplace to secure anti-cat devices.
I could glue pieces of carpet strip up there, but would rather not — I don’t much want to get glue all over those blocks. Tried tying pieces atop them, but couldn’t get enough purchase to do any good.
Finally, I had this idea:
Caldrons of boiling oil! Or, in cat lexicon, about the equivalent: water! Lurking in the garage is a lifetime supply of cheap aluminum steam-table liners…perfect for roasting dog meat on the grill. It dawned upon me that these things are just about the size of one of those capstone blocks. If one were to half fill it with water and set it atop the column, the thing would fall on the cat the first time the damn cat tried to jump up there.
😀
If it tried to jump up there.
So far, I haven’t seen the cat anywhere on the wall. This noon when I got home from running around the city, one of the water pans had been tipped on the ground. With joy, I pictured The Enemy doused thoroughly.
But alas, no. After I filled it and replaced it atop the wall, what should come along but a bodacious mockingbird: he perched on the rim of the thing so he could drink the water. I expect it’s safe to assume he’s the one who knocked the pan off the wall.
Not sure how to deal with that the column issue. Obviously, I can’t leave pans of water sitting up there…we’ll all be overrun with mosquitoes. Can’t dose the water with detergent to discourage the mosquitoes if the birds are drinking the water — that would sicken the very creatures I would like to relieve from cat predation.
So I’ve gotta come up with a way to repel Kitty from the tops of those support columns.
One thought that occurs: Velcro. Stick-on Velcro will stick to the cinderblock, so in theory one could attach enough pieces of carpet tack to harass the cat. Another is double-sided tape, of which I have a little.
Tape is not very sticky, but the goop on the side of self-stick Velcro sets up like steel. It could be messy to get off, though. And it may not withstand rain and 115-degree heat. Still. The trick may be just to break Kitty’s habit of jumping over the wall — even if the stuff lasted only a few weeks, that might be enough to stop the cat invasions.
Heh.
You know, I used to like cats. I’ve had cats all my life — in Arabia, we weren’t allowed to have dogs because the jackals carried rabies into the camp. So everyone had cats, which could get up on top of cars and houses to stay out of reach of the jackals and hyenas, theoretically.
Out there, ours were outdoor cats. Really, in the 1950s I doubt if anyone had ever heard of such a thing as an “indoor cat.”
When my mother and I came back to the States, we wanted a cat. To get it, we had to smuggle it into our apartment, for cats were contraband in the whole development where we lived. This was when my mother got the idea that cats could be acclimated to live inside all the time.
And they can — most of them can, anyway.
Some years later, my then-husband and I acquired a pair of Siamese cats. The female was a prize lilac-point, and we stupidly bred her with the male’s sire before we had her fixed. The breeder took three of the kittens and we ended up with two of them. Which meant…yes! Now we had four cats.
Four indoor cats.
Well. This house we lived in had been massively renovated by the previous owners, who had intended to live in it for a good long time. Because their project was no fix-and-flip, they had outfitted the place with top-of-the-line everything, including gorgeous, luxurious shag carpets (it was now 1969) that were at least three inches thick. They were the most wonderful carpets I’ve ever seen, before or since.
Lemme tell you something about cats: anyone who thinks they can be relied upon to use a cat box labors under a false impression.
Once a cat decides to pee and poop outside a cat box, nothing will bring it back to the cat box. Ever afterward, it will urinate and defecate wherever it pleases.
And yes, the cat boxes were kept meticulously clean. And yes, we had several cat boxes to accommodate this tribe.
They decided the dining room — an absolutely beautiful room — was the new loo. And they destroyed the carpeting in there. The stink defied belief, and absolutely nothing we did to discourage them or to try to keep them out worked.
We are talking about thousands of dollars worth of high, high, high-end carpeting.
They did a lot of other damage, too.
I used my pregnancy to persuade my husband to let me get rid of the effing cats. But by then they’d pretty well trashed the place.
Some years later I rescued a kitten from the irrigation outside an office where I was working. This cat, we decided, would be an outdoor cat. And, let me add, it is another myth that outdoor cats will immediately keel over from feline leukemia, be eaten by coyotes, and be run over by garbage trucks. Well. Some of them are run over. But this cat lived to be around 15 years old. One of her offspring made it to around 18.
Our neighbors hated us. They hated the cats, to be specific. And one of them used to come over regularly and complain about the cat turning the planter in his house’s front entryway into a stinking toilet. I expressed empathy, suggested he set mousetraps around the plants to scare off the cats, and quietly declined to bring the damn things indoors. What a bitch.
The more I’ve learned of cats, over the years, the less I like them.
Domestic cats devastate native wildlife. In the city, a single outdoor cat kills more than twice a week. They kill off lizards (which, my friends, eat mosquitos and any number of other annoying insects and biting spiders), birds, and small mammals. Some of the most charming birds in North America are being decimated by pet and feral cats. The cat is, IMHO, truly a nasty creature.
Nevertheless, I don’t want to kill Other Daughter’s cat, upon which she professes to dote. Nor do I want a confrontation with Other Daughter. But sometimes I wonder what on earth is the matter with people.
In the past several days, Cassie and I have come upon the remains of two cats — coyote kills. A coyote leaves little but a pile of ripped-out hair. Interesting. We’re coming on to whelping season, and so of course the coyotes are hungry.
Other Daughter was all upset when one of the neighbors’ stray cats was, indeed, run over by a car in the alley. What a shock! But…if you let your cats run around the streets, what do you think will happen to them sooner or later?
Please. If you love your cat, keep it indoors! If you don’t want to be bothered with cleaning up after your cat and with replacing damaged carpeting, flooring, bedding, draperies, and furniture, don’t get a cat. And even if you don’t love your cat but simply must own one, have a little consideration for the environment and for your neighbors!
