Six Cats A Slayin'

The kittens were playing with one another, and I watched their roughhousing for a moment before I realized that there were only four of them. After a closer look, I determined that Ramses had somehow managed to get out of the corral. “Well, that was sooner than I expected,” I told Diesel. “I didn’t think they’d get out for another week or two. Can you find him, boy?” I hoped Ramses hadn’t managed to get far.

Diesel trilled loudly and leapt off the bookshelf. He started hunting around the room while I watched. I figured he would find the stray more quickly than I could, by scent if nothing else. He could also see under and behind furniture more easily than I could.

Sure enough, after a moment Diesel located Ramses. Diesel scrunched the front half of his large body under the sofa, and I heard a combination of chirping and mewling before Diesel emerged with Ramses. He herded the errant kitten back toward me and the corral, scolding all the way.

Ramses ran to me, perhaps to get away from the fussing Maine Coon, and before I realized what he intended, he had scaled his way halfway up my pant leg. I winced as the sharp, small claws connected with flesh a few times. I scooped him away from my leg and held him close, cupped in my hands, his face only a couple of inches from mine.

“Okay, Ramses, I didn’t intend for you to emulate your namesake and start having adventures at this age,” I told him. In the series in which the character Ramses featured, he had been a terrifyingly precocious child, prone to wander on his own even as a toddler.

Feline Ramses stared at me, apparently fascinated by the close proximity of my face. Without warning, he leaned his little head forward and licked the tip of my nose.

“I’ll take that for an apology,” I said, and the kitten mewed. I stroked his head with one finger. “Now listen here, Ramses. Let’s not go exploring anymore for a while yet, okay?” He mewed again, and I put him back in the corral.

Diesel had watched me the entire time I held the kitten, and once Ramses had been returned to the fold, Diesel resumed his vantage post atop the bookcase. He trilled to let me know he intended to keep watch for a while. At least, that was how I interpreted his communication with me.

Back in the kitchen I informed Azalea of the errant kitten, and she chuckled as she set a plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans at my place at the table. “Little scamp. He’ll be out again before you know it.”

“Not as long as Diesel is there keeping an eye out for attempts at jailbreak,” I said.

“Mr. Cat acts like he’s their daddy.” Azalea set a glass of iced tea on the table along with a small plate of buttered rolls.

I cut into the roast beef, so tender it nearly fell apart simply from the touch of the knife. I forked a bite into my mouth and savored while I chewed slowly. After I swallowed, I said, “Perfection as usual, Azalea. No one can do roast like you do.”

“You say that every time I cook a roast.” Azalea regarded me with a faint smile.

“And every time it’s true.” I grinned. After a mouthful of potatoes and gravy, I said, “We’ve got to come up with another solution for keeping the horde from getting loose all over the house.”

“What about one of those cages they put dogs in?” Azalea asked.

“That’s one possibility, if there’s one big enough for all five of them,” I replied. “I wouldn’t want to separate them if I don’t have to. I’ll have to think about it.”

I had never cared for the sight of dogs in crates, even though friends assured me that crate-trained dogs felt safe and comfortable with them. Stewart crated Dante occasionally, but given the poodle’s tendencies to get into mischief when left on his own, I understood why Stewart did it. Dante had a penchant for gnawing on Stewart’s most expensive shoes.

In the case of five growing and curious kittens, however, a large crate or cage might be the safest choice. I would check with the vet’s office to find out where I might get a large one that would keep the kittens contained but allow them room to play. I hoped I could find one and get it installed in the next couple of days, because I had little doubt that where Ramses led, the other four would soon follow. Diesel and Azalea would do their best, but they couldn’t watch the kittens every minute.

Besides, I realized, having the kittens safely contained meant that Diesel could come to the office with me or to the public library. I believed he would understand that the kittens would be out of harm’s way in the cage and would then be happy to accompany me as usual. I had become so used to having Diesel with me almost everywhere I went, and when he wasn’t with me, I definitely felt his absence.

That decided me. A cage it would be.