kitty (and people) trauma

Well, good thing we had a Plan C.

We're going away this weekend. I think we're generally agreed that Koa would do fine at the Cat Cottage, our local boarding place. We were ready to give it a try. The problem would be getting her there.

After long consultation with one of the CC owners, Plan A was for Robert or me to grab her by the scruff of her neck and stuff her into the carrier and deliver her to the CC where she'd spend a weekend in luxury. I've been feeling anxious about Plan A for a while. We've been practicing getting closer to her. Robert picked her up once when she was nice and relaxed and moved her six inches. I got her carrier out yesterday and put catnip in it.

Tonight, we arrived home. Robert was petting Koa on the bed. We did not close the doors (mistake number 1) and Robert went to grab her, but she slithered out of his arms pretty quickly and ran down the hall to one of her hiding places -- a bed with four drawers underneath. Koa ran behind that bed, glared at us, and then ducked between the drawers, where it would be next to impossible to reach her (short of disassembling the bed).

I drove over to the Cat Cottage to discuss Plan B with DeDe, the woman on duty. She said she'd come over to try to insert cat into carrier. Meanwhile, Koa ran back down the hall and jumped on the eight-foot high shelf.

DeDe arrived. We closed off the bathroom, and Robert went up on the bathroom counter to pet the kitty. He could barely reach her, but finally, after petting her and talking to her, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and came down from the counter. He tried and tried to stuff her into the carrier, at which point she leapt out of his arms and, yes, I knew there was an origin for this saying, literally bounced off the walls, knocking things over. She finally took the back route back up to the shelf where she sat for a good long time. Robert said that she looked as terrified as she did when we first brought her home.

DeDe left, and with her went the hopes for Plan B and a nice weekend at the Cat Cottage. I cleaned up the spilled food, wet newspaper, cat pee (left by a terrified kitty), and went downstairs.

We finally heard a thud, and eventually, when I came upstairs, talked to the kitty while she was sitting at the top of the stairs. She ran under my bed, where she's stayed ever since.

So Plan C is that Chanda, also of the Cat Cottage, will come by a few times this weekend to clean the litter and replenish food supplies. Robert reminds me that this cat is almost monastic, and probably won't mind being left alone for a few days.

I'm exhausted; I'm sure our tiny cat is too.