Stake Out #1

In November, I went to the vet down the street and adopted two kittens. They were found in the country and brought to Vienna, and weren't really used to people (read: feral). The vet said that it would take some patience before they got used to me. Patience was exactly the right word. Or possibly stubbornness.

I named the boy Newton (after Sir Isaac) and his sister Marille (which means "apricot" in Austrian German). I brought them home...and they wouldn't come near me. They would hiss or bolt if I tried to approach them. And after a couple days, Newton completely disappeared. My apartment is not that big, but I couldn't find him anywhere.

That Thursday, after Newton (the yellow one) had been MIA for about 48 hours, I came home and discovered the two of them huddled behind the couch. Being a good, protective brother, Newton immediately bolted into the kitchen. I followed him, a moment too late, and just heard a “thunk” sound toward the stove. I had already searched the kitchen diligently the previous day—there weren’t any good hiding places. So I went over it with a fine tooth comb—behind the couch, beside the fridge, on top of the cabinets over the sink…everywhere. Finally, I got down on my hands and knees. I still couldn’t see any hiding places….but then I felt along the underside of the indentation all the way around the bottom of the cabinets. At just one spot, about two feet wide, there was a 4” gap leading up under the oven. They got in there, and then were able to run around under all the cabinets.

After that (Newton, being a bad example, taught his sister to hide down ther too) I basically didn't see them at all. Whenever I came home, they would be hiding under the cabinets. At night, if I left food in the living room, they came out to eat it. That Friday night I caught a glimpse of Newton staring at me just before he ran back into the kitchen with a full stomach.

Then I decided enough was enough. They couldn’t get used to me if I never saw them. And they were starting to leave little surprises under the cabinets, in a place which could never be cleaned out.

I began a stake-out that Sunday afternoon. I put a chair up on the kitchen counter, next to the stove, and turned off all the lights. I even pretended to lock the front door like I was going out. Then I sat there, up on the counter, deathly still. Nothing happened for about 20 minutes. Then, lo and behold, as I looked down, Marille appeared first, scanning the room for trouble. Her cowardly brother showed his head after she was about 3 feet away from the oven. Then she looked up, and I knew I was sunk. Newton disappeared back under the oven and she followed quickly.

They foolishly thought they had won. But stay tuned to hear about how I got them out.