First, don’t worry, no kittens were harmed in the making of this post. Also, no picture with this entry as I was too busy running around to pull out the phone and take one (and it was probably too dark anyhow, and the sucker was WAY too fast…etc)
Anyhow, Samanthas mom, Sam and I went to Thai House & Sushi Bar for dinner tonight. It’s our favorite Thai restaurant in Florence. As usual the food was amazing and the girls ate too much, the service was wonderful and I can’t recommend the place enough.
After we finished dinner we headed back to the car and were greeted with the mewling of a kitten. It was constant, just meow-meow-meow-meow-meow-meow with an occasional MEOOOOOOOW! It was heartbreaking, yet deciedly frustrating at the same time. We had FISH fer christsakes. We put it on the GROUND and MOVED AWAY from it. The stupid thing wouldn’t come out and get it. We (and by “we” I mean I, singular) were reduced to crawling around the car to determine where the fuzzy feline was and attempt to coax him from underneath the vehicle.
Finally, his hunger must have gotten the better of him because he came out and ate a piece of fish I had left on the ground. “Ok, that’s a start.” I thought, “lets put another piece down right there and maybe he’ll eat it.” So I added another small piece of fish (leftovers from Samantha’s dinner) to the ground where the previous one was and hovered. He came a little ways out and ate it, then dissappeared back into the shadows yet again. “Ahhhhh! Psychology 101!” I put the next piece closer to me. He came and ate it, and another one even closer.
By this time he was right up to me. “Mhmm we’re developing a rappaport now!” I thought, and extended my hand with a small piece of fish in it. He came, he ate, then he sniffed my fingers. “He wants to be petted!” I’m such a silly human. He ducked and stepped back. “Ok, ok, no petting” I said, and he came back to me. I held out my hand, and I readied my cap behind my back to catch him. Then with one fell swoop, the fucker bit me.
Yeah, you thought I was gonna catch him didn’t you? I was so ready to. I was going to swing my hat out and nab the little sucker before he knew what hit him. (In hindsight, he would have just slipped out the hole in the back, duh!)
It was time to bring out the big guns (aka, the blanket from the back seat.) and take this little runt dwn. With the help of a little more coaxing and yet more fish, he was back in position. I threw the blanket and “AH HAH!” I shouted triumphantly. Bystanders had gathered by this point and were all grinning to each other in a knowing way. Samantha and her mother were practically hugging for joy. I bent down and placed my hand gently on top of the blanket so as not to crush the fragile feline. It collapsed. There was nothing there. “Damn! That sucker is quick!” I believe I uttered astonished. Everyone began laughing. I was fuming.
After crawling around on the ground like a dyslexic spiderman trying to ascertain where kitty was, we finally decided that there was no way we could hope to catch him. We had no idea what to do with him when we finally caught him, but we were going to just try to get him out of the car and into the open. I got down on the curb, where I could see where he was. Samantha rolled down the window so she could hear me, I’m not sure what her mother did at that point, probably just tried not to soil herself with laughter.
When the kitten was in the middle of the car, I had Samantha ease the car up a few feet. He just moved with it. Darn it! I had her stop. He went up the wheel well. I swore. So, kicking on tires became the order of the day, or rather, the night, seeing how it was 9:15 by this point. From one to the other he ran. A wibble wobble, to and fro “and the one little duck with the feather on his back, he led the others with a quack quack quack.” Not quite the right animal, but the sentiment is there.
Finally, he stopped in the middle of the car. Samantha was ready, with her heart in her throat. “NOW!!!!” I shouted, and she stomped on the gas pedal quicker’n a professional dragster. I half expected to see her shooting back, over the curb, and into the tree planted behind her. Thankfully she had the presence of mind to be in “Drive” instead of “Reverse” unfortunately she did not have the presence of mind to turn on her headlights (it was 9:15 remember?) No matter, she was gone down the street before we could scream at her, so focused on the cat we were.
By this time he had taken off down towards the intersection, sticking along the glass storefronts, trying to jump through the glass and get the hell away from me. By this point, I must freely admit I was probably not looking the most inviting. I had turned into MATTMAN! The blanketed crusader! I skipped through the night chasing after the homeless kitties of mankind! Sucker was fast. I still didn’t manage to catch him. I did manage to flap myself all up and down the street, in front of the stores looking like so much of an idiot.
At the time it was deadly serious, however when he got away (escaped into an alleyway with a trashcan and bags piled high) and Samantha managed to come pulling up (still sans headlights) we saw the humor in it. By the time we arrived home, everyone was breathless and about to wet themselves. It was bad that we didn’t manage to catch him, but then again he really REALLY didn’t want to be caught. We managed to get a little food in him, and to keep him from being run over. That’s really about all you can ask for in a situation like that.
Now, if you’ll pardon me, I still smell like fish, I need to go wash my hands.