Teleporting Cat
I have a cat who can teleport. Tabitha was indoors last night, curled up in my in-tray (or out-tray or unmoving stationary tray – hey, a pun!). She was asleep. I left the room to watch Downton Abbey. On my return, she was nowhere to be seen. I went to bed, expecting her to join me during the night.
This morning, she was outside, waiting on the doorstep.
This isn’t the first time she’s done this.
The upstairs windows are still open (in case Woody returns) and she steps outside to sit on the sill sometimes; it’s a bit of a worry. When I go to bed and can’t find her, I shine a torch outside and look for a splat on the concrete under the window. There’s never a splat. Therefore she must still be in. I have no catflap.
The next morning when I let her in, I inspect her for damage – has she glided from the upstairs window and landed unharmed? She’s fine. She smiles and raises her tail hopefully, rubbing her head on my leg. She’s hungry.
Perhaps there’s a secret hole in the house because she does this so often – she’s indoors, then she’s not, and I have no recollection of opening any doors. I hope I find the hole before the burglars.
She’s also able to hide in an empty room. I can stare and stare, knowing she’s in there, but invisible. Like the Cheshire Cat, she disappears. I call, and imagine her smiling at me, purring in full view, happy because I can’t see her.
Is this an example of strange feline powers? No wands, no Latin spells, just the seamless ability to disappear from one space and appear in another.
How does it work?
However she does it, it takes it out of her. After a morning supper, she ascends to the bedroom and passes out for hours, recharging those magical batteries for the next night’s disappearance.
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Last year I discovered he had a missing fang- top right. The vet thought that perhaps he'd jumped off something and banged his chin and knocked the tooth out. It didn't bother him though. Aswell as being big and clumsy he's also very thick skinned. He often bangs his head as he walks under the coffee table and seems not to notice. I love watching him scrabble over the fence, his big fluffy behind scratching for a foot hold as he disappears over the top.
Our cat, Simba, is a boy and he regularly changes his 'favourite' spot to curl up and retire from the world. When we find the spot, we then know where to look and he's usually there, but when he decides to move on it can take forever to spot his new retirement home. He's quite a talkative cat. When he comes in he'll mieow 'hello', or when he jumps on your lap he'll purr a greeting. But whne he's 'in retirement' and you're calling him, searching everywhere, he keeps shtum - never says a mumbling word.
McCavity sums her up well too, Wrath. Wherever you think she is - she isn't.
Tony, so your boy can melt into the wallpaper as well? Interlestink. Poppy's the same in that she has favourite places for a while, then moves on.
And Ez - it's uncanny isn't it? I only have to *think* of a ham sandwich and Poppy's there, her tail in a question mark, enquiring whether I've opened the packet yet. She teleports too - just not between in and outdoors. That's Tabitha's skill and I don't think she's going to let on the secret any time soon.
It was, however a routine occurence up to the time her health failed when she was fourteen. I think that Tabitha may be more agile than you think.
Yes, cats on roofs. I think it's a bit of a sport. I used to live in a bungalow and a friend's cat routinely got up on my roof and howled for hours. After several weeks of getting the ladder out to 'rescue' him, after which he'd leap back up (good game!) I decided to plug my ears and let him get on with it. Passers-by would knock on my door to tell me there was a cat stuck on the roof. I'd say, 'Yes, I know, thank you,' and close the door again. What a hard heart I had. He'd get down eventually, disappointed that I wasn't playing any more.
Akira is the dead opposite of his sister - where Rabbit magically appears in rooms, he manages to get trapped in cupboards and, one memorable christmas, in the tumble dryer (thankfully no one turned it on!). When we had the house renovated, I had to make my uncle stop his work before he put the floorboards back, just so I check and make sure Akira hadn't wandered in for a look-see. The amount of times I have got up in the middle of the night to go to the loo and found him shut in the bathroom (obviously followed us in when we brushed our teeth) is just not funny any more - you'd think he'd learn, but oh no... not my boy!
Btw - for a laugh, try this site: webuyanycat.com Rabbit was worth £8.45 and Akira £2.20. He's the cheapest kitty I know... something I am oddly proud about!
For anyone who's NOT come across the cartoons of Simon's Cat yet (shurely not?) - here's one of my faves: http://www.simonscat.com/Films/Cat-Man-Do/
Ely, we used to live in a house with an old cow shed in the garden. It had an arch around the door, and the arch was smothered with honeysuckle. Whenever our two cats couldn't be found, I'd squint up through the top of the arch and would usually - eventually - spot little tufts of fur amid the leaves. The cats liked to bask in the sunshine there all day long, even when it was boiling hot. I don't know how they stood it!
Spangles - I am reminded of just how hot our cats get when they decide to bask in front of the fire in the winter. Sometimes, they get so close that their fur becomes almost too hot to touch! (Although Akira did frazzle his whiskers off once. I walked into the living room and asked what was burning, hubby (who has no sense of smell) just shrugged and then I saw Akira batting himself in the face. Idiot cat.)
Ely - there's a new Simon's Cat film? Must away to view it any minute! I think cats basking in front of the fire are insulated to an extent by their fur - i.e. it's hotter on the outside.
As for whiskers - I'm told that their the approximate width of their hips - to stop them getting stuck in holes. Don't know if that's true.
Yes Kate, I'm not surprised that cats are a witches familiar. Makes perfect sense :)
;-)
And Skylark - are you be-catted? I have the feeling you're more inclined to surround yourself with canines? In the nicest possible way.
a. a set of door keys hidden somewhere
b. a parachute stashed on the roof or
c. a feline Q, with some fiendishly ingenious levitation device.
Carla developed a limp a couple of weeks ago and it got worse. Nothing to see and after tests, x-rays etc, not a thing the vets could find. How about a splint? Great idea. To be on for 7 -10 days.
On return home, we find splint is really a plaster cast the length of her front leg, but longer and with a slightly bulbous bit at the end. Carla struggled gamely impersonating blind pugh when she hobbled on the kitchen floor tiles, or Obi Wan Kenobi when trying to lick the encased foot.
Sleep was non-existent hearing the clump, clump, clump of a walk followed by thump (a jump) followed by thunk, thunk, thunk - plaster cast hitting 'Daddy' on head in order to get comfortable. I got more and more concussed.
She took the cast off herself after 3 days and she's fine now...but I'm sure Q was involved. She'd sell us maybe, she's not for sale.
Mark, oh I laughed at your concussion, tee hee - that's the kind of friend I am :)
Mike, sounds like a wonderful wildlife garden to me.
Sproutie, OK, I give you permission to have one. You'll have to move though.
She is looking smug though. It may be the mouse.
John - that's the bestest suggestion and one that certainly fits. I've been keeping my beady eye on Tabitha all evening and she's barely stirred from the in/out/stationary tray. All the outside doors are now locked for tonight. We'll see how it pans out during the darkness. [just looked up at her again, just in case. Synchronise watches. Still there.]
*cue creepy music*
Hope you're recovering from your concussion (still chortling, tee hee).
I got a 3am loving claw in the earlobe last night, it was still bleeding this morning. Methinks Carla didn't like her trip to the vets after all.
As a rule, I leave it for others to call me Satan.
How did you know Carla had a tooth out?
I hope you haven't told her about the tooth fairy? Oh Whisks, how could you!
I've already had to leave an arm and a leg at the vets.
Sorry to hear about your recent amputations; most distressing. Will make it more difficult to remunerate the tooth fairy. Good luck :)
Cats also display remarkable intelligence as any cat owner knows. I remember my first cat, Whiskers, with deep affection. I was 7 when he arrived at the house and I fell in love with him immediately. He quickly discovered a great game to play and would sneak under my bed, usually just as I was nodding off to sleep. He would then wait until I was completely still and suddenly scramble upside-down, pulling himself along by digging his claws under the mattress and creating a din as he raced across, undoubtedly ripping the mattress to shreds in the process. Then, just for good measure, on occasion he would peek over the side of the bed to see if I had noticed his antics. If I had, he would duck back under and begin the whole process again. If, however I pretended I was asleep, he would jump on top of the bed, biff my head with a paw (no claws though) as he ran down over the side to return to his favourite pastime.
Sadly, Whiskers left me many years ago. In fact, I had to take him to the vet and say goodbye to him. One last incredible thing happened as he went to sleep. I was stroking him and he tried to raise his head to look at me. There was the most intelligent expression in his eyes as he looked directly into mine. He placed a paw on my hand and started purring and I swear I heard him say goodbye.
Yes, I adore cats: they can teach us so much about ourselves and how to simply 'be'.
I think of animals as different races, that's all. Variations on a theme; we've got more in common than not.
There was a time when women were thought of as too flawed to survive on their own, too emotional (hysterical?), too 'other'. They were property, as are many animals today. There was a time when children were thought of as substandard humans too. They had no rights, things were done to them; they were also chattels. Similarly other races were once considered below par by some and traded and exploited. We've moved beyond this, I hope, to realise that we're all made of the same stuff, but the continuum is there still. I think that animals are just another variation on the same theme - as much 'us' as anyone else. Heavens, if we share 96% the same DNA as the other primates, we're more similar than we're not and it's only a matter of time before we realise what we've done. Anyone see that documentary on Smart Animals last week on BBC?
Sorry - getting off my soapbox right now.
Steve, I empathise with your experiences. I wonder if it's an echo of a life?
The other cat in the picture, Poppy, died last month (not at the vet) and I still feel and hear her around the house.
Have no cat of my own, but bond with my sister's two beautiful ones. Gave the shy, nervous one Reiki and we've been friends ever since!
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