Shadow Cat (3) SHADOW EXITS: Shadow lay quietly on the cabin floor. Part of his body was on his mat. His chin extended beyond the mat onto the floor. His half-closed eyes tried to focus upward as he weakly gazed and listened to us prattling. If we took the time to take notice we would be able to read his thoughts. From the expression on his face, we would understand him to say, “You guys are acting stupid and, in my present condition, I have no patience for this nonsense. By the time you have the situation figured out, I will have been cured through my own immunity system. Or, on the other hand, I might expire and solve everything!” “Terri, be reasonable. I just can’t get out of it” I announced. “I know that it comes at a bad time, but there are commitments in company resources that I can’t undo for Shadow. You’re just going to have to deal with the situation without me!” Shadow had listened to as much as he could. Struggling to stand he slowly rose from the mat. Unsteadily he managed to stand up to his full height. Determined, he delicately made his way out of the cabin’s family room. Shadow’s movements caught my eye. “Look” I said directing Terri’s attention to Shadow. “He is getting better. Notice the way he did that. Better than before wasn’t it.” Terri’s reply was sharp and biting. “Better? Sure, if you think that a young cat walking like a candidate for the old folks home is an improvement” she returned. “For heaven’s sake, can’t you see how listless Shadow is feeling? I suggest that you reset your priorities. We’ve got a sick member of the family who needs your help!” NATURE’S CALL: While Terri and I continued to deal with the issues, Shadow found his way out of the cabin and into the evening air. Something inside of him was directing his movements. His senses were drawn to the familiar sounds and fragrances of nature. As he advanced into the brush behind our cabin away from the seashore, dormant instincts were charging. He coursed his way deeper into the woods. With each step Shadow heard noises that were unusual; and at the same time familiar. His faulty memory banks drove him further; flirting with images of the life he had once upon a time. Unrestrained, and without understanding why, he felt comfort in the woods. In spite of his years in our home, where he adapted to the domestic life, the wild outdoors held a special magic for him. The reasons for the magic had been altered from his recall. But, there remained a thrill that could not be denied. Shadow’s foray into the natural world refreshed him in a special way. Shadow did not return to our cabin that Saturday night and the Sunday night that followed. He detained in the woods. I never will be able to say what he did, but I imagine that he renewed some friendships. The wild life that habitate in the surrounding countryside of our county are liberally integrated. I expect he had many friends among raccoon, fox, opossum, and rodents of all variety. Standing guard in the trees over him as he slept were friendly birds. I reckon he had a speaking acquaintance with varied winged characters of many colors. I always supposed that he even knew the whereabouts of feral cats that have never left the wild environment in which they endure. Coping with illness is one part of life’s hurdles. This is also true for inhabitants of nature’s wild world in their struggle to survive. Unlike humans they fare without the assistance of medical technology. I have always been impressed with the fact that somehow these citizens of the woods have broken the code. They are enabled through nature’s abundance to treat themselves. Those that cannot respond to the cures that nature provides find a permanent solution and are never ill again. It’s a working plan. ON TO BERMUDA: The cabin was not relaxing those two nights of Shadow’s absence. On Monday morning, as arranged, my transportation service arrived. In spite of the circumstances, I left for the airport to attend the Bermuda meeting; leaving Terri, Shadow and our Mercury Grand Marquis at the beach cabin. My departure was filled with feelings of guilt; having left Terri to deal with the situation. She was fragile. Shadow was sick. More importantly I did not know where Shadow was at the time. Worst of all I did not know for how long he’d be gone nor if he would ever show up at all. But, now I was in Bermuda with this telegram in my hands. I was sure that the wire had everything to do with Shadow. The possibilities shook my sense of security. “That darn cat” I thought, “has always, since the day he drifted into my life, presented me with a problem. These problems were always in connection with his disappearance.” Feeling stressed out; I nervously made a long-distance telephone call to my home in Northport. There was no answer. Obviously, I thought, Terri is still at the cabin. We have no telephone there. I was helpless. I didn’t know what to do, except that I had to do something. And so I did! I checked out before I could occupy my room at Marriott; my bags were still with me. I advised those members of our executive group, who had a need to know, that I was faced with an extraordinary matter and needed to be excused from participation at our meeting. Having done so, I immediately returned by taxi to the airport. There, I booked on board the next flight back to the States. SHADOW’S RETURN: On my arrival to Northport, late Tuesday morning, I found Terri and a healthy Shadow still at the cabin. I was very relieved that the situation had obviously been satisfactorily resolved. I felt no guilt about having left the meeting. As far as I was concerned there would be other opportunities to attend meetings. The most important thing was that we were together. I hugged Terri and petted Shadow. Both responded affectionately. I asked Terri to tell how she managed to recover so well from the problematic situation that existed on the previous day; the day of my departure to Bermuda. She told me of how Shadow had turned up with his wee bird friend. “With his what?” I interrupted. “You heard me” she continued. “His wee bird friend. You have to meet him. He is a darling little bird. He has a slight problem, though. Wee bird can’t fly.” she said emphatically. She went on to tell of her surprise and delight when she discovered Shadow’s return. “It happened almost minutes after you left on Monday morning. Shadow was scratching the patio deck screen door. He wanted in,” she said with a laugh. Terri swung the door open wide. Shadow pranced through the threshold gliding over to his food station. Purring loudly to show his pleasure, Shadow lowered his head into his food bowl. The bowl contained fresh sea diet compounds; Terri’s answer to every situation is food. Before the patio door could fully swing shut on its own, a sparrow ran in crossing the floor to join Shadow. Hopping onto the rim of the water bowl, the wee bird repeatedly quick dipped its beak downward and upward to drink. Shadow looked up at his friend ‘bird’ then eagerly turned his attention back to his bowl and resumed eating. The little winged companion did not fly. Nothing was broken in his body. He moved quite well with lots of energy. Somehow he had lost some of his feathers; to the extent that flight was not possible. Of course the bird’s condition was temporary. New feathers were bound to grow. He would fly again. We speculated for hours that something divine might have led wee bird and Shadow, one to the other, at a time when each was in need of assistance toward recovery. As far as the telegrams were concerned, Terri said that the first wire, she claims she sent, was to declare that she could not find the car and house keys. The wire contained a request to have me call back by telephone to tell her where I had put the keys. The second wire was sent because she had apparently found the keys. What I found strange about this explanation was that we had no telephone at the beach cabin. So how could I call? I chose not to raise any issues. I was glad to be home with Terri and to find Shadow in good health. I was delighted to be introduced to ‘wee bird’. In the distance, lounging on the top rail of the fence, I saw Shadow. A ROOM WITH A VIEW I enjoy sitting at the family room window. On chilly days the sun’ s rays spill through the thermopane glass filling the room with warmth. On mild days the open frame allows soft breezes to filter into the house. The view overlooks a green clearing stretching to the woods behind our home. Beyond the tree line is a small wooded area. It separates our acreage from our neighbor’s land. My neighbor’s property line is enclosed with a fence; mesh on post and rail. Using my binoculars, I can focus through the canopy, onto the fencing from my position at the window. “What does our little Shadow find so tempting back there?” I asked facetiously. “He just sits on that fence for hours, gazing toward our neighbor’s new pigeon shed.” Terri took the binoculars from my hand and looked through them. “Ever since they built that pigeon coop Shadow has been fixed with curiosity on those birds” she replied. “Shadow better be careful. The dog inside that fence isn’t keen on intrusions from anyone; man or beast. Go outside and call Shadow back. Get him off that fence before he gets hurt”, she said handing the binoculars back to me. “There’s no need. Here he comes, running for his life. Look at his tail. Did you ever see it so blown up? Volka must have scared the heck out of him.” VOLKA: The owners of the lot acreage behind my woods had acquired an unsociable small dog. It had broad shoulders and walked on bowed legs. Her property line is about two hundred feet behind my house. The dog is a cross of several breeds producing a composition that is not pleasing to the eye; a suitable match to its unsavory personality. Her name is Volka. I don’t have a warm spot in my heart for Volka. The bitch is a superb guard for the people who own it. To everyone else, it is a noisy nuisance. It constantly barks; in perpetual offense. Volka challenges all strangers, human and animal; regarding everyone with distrust. It simply boils down to, if you don’t live in its owner’s home, you are estranged permanently. Volka’s list of offenses grow. The postoffice has refused to deliver mail to the owner’s front door mailbox. The box was relocated, placed at the curbside, at the request of the postman. My rear view neighbor has taken to racing Homing Pigeons. For that reason he built a coop to accommodate thirty birds. The interior of the coop has shelving, looking very much like mail slots, which allow each bird a place to rest. The slots are furnished with clay dishes filled with straw. These serve as a nesting bed where the hens can lay their eggs and sit on hatchlings. At the bottom of the coop are two access openings, one on each side of the shed. The openings provide a passage into the coop from a landing platform on the outside of the shed. The birds use the platforms as a walkway into the structure. The openings are constructed with hanging lightweight moving rods. The rods swing inward to permit the homing birds to enter the coop as they return from flights. The swaying rods offer no resistance to the bird’s body on entry; they move easily as the birds enter the coop. However, the rods swing in one direction only. The birds can enter, but they cannot leave. The only way the birds can leave the coop is by opening of the flight door, which is situated on top of the sheltering shed. The flight door is the birds’ exit to the skies. It is a manually operated egress. It is obvious to Terri and to me why Volka was acquired. The dog’s mission is to stand guard over the birds when the master of the house is not available to do so himself. TRESPASSER: Several months after the introduction of Volka to the neighborhood, Volka’s owner paid us a call. “Good day to you both” he said as he drove onto our driveway. Terri and I greeted him through our screened door; which we opened widely. “Good day to you sir” I replied. “Please come in.” He entered and we made small neighborly talk around our kitchen table; over cups of coffee. He liked our home. We complimented him on his landscaping, which was protected by the woods that separated our properties. He told us that he and his wife both went off to the village to work everyday. We spoke of my vacation and how much fun I was having at home. It took a while for him to get to the purpose of his call at our house. “You see folks it’s the darndest thing, but I do believe that an uninvited someone is trespassing on my property having a good time at my expense. I know this because I have found evidence of his, or their, presence on my land. Have you seen anything?” “Why no”, we replied. “What should we be on the lookout for?” “Well”, he went on. “I’m not sure. But, the intruder is having fun at my dog’s expense too. Its been going on for weeks now. By the time I get home from work each day I find my Volka in the pigeon coop; unable to get out. I’ve got a drop latch on the primary door to the shed. I don’t use a lock. But someone is clearly putting my little Volka in the shed and dropping the latch back into the catch bar. It has happened often. It has gotten to the point that I can’t leave Volka outside alone anymore. Can you believe it? If I ever catch this guy I’ll wring his neck.” Terri and I looked at each other. “No wonder we haven’t heard as much barking lately”, she whispered to me. “I'll tell you whats more”, our neighbor continued. “The birds won’t enter the coop any more for fear of the dog.” ON GUARD: We offered our neighbor our understanding. As he walked out through the door Terri and I assured him that we would be on the lookout for strangers. I watched him drive away. When I was sure he was gone, I turned to Terri and, shaking my head, I started to laugh. “Get it out of your system” she warned. “I don’t like that dog’s barking either, but if it were your problem maybe you would not be laughing.” “I wonder what brain is responsible for this caper”, I thought out loud. Since my neighbor’s visit I kept a sharper eye on things at the rear of our acreage. I paid special attention to Shadow, who persisted in taking trips through the woods. Guardedly, I observed him sitting on the fence. Was Shadow tantalizing Volka by his presence? The dog barked and barked. I used my field glasses to make sure that Shadow was safe. I scanned the distance for prowlers. I could see no reason for Volka’s loud protestations. One day I noticed the change in the volume of Volka’s barking. It seemed more distant. Or, on the other hand, it could be described as coming from an enclosure. I wondered if Volka was in the coop; where our neighbor had reported that he would find his dog locked in confinement. I quickly located my field glasses and looked through them to view the back property. Shadow was not on the fence. Shadow wasn’t anywhere that I could see him. Again on another occasion, while I was seated on our patio, I noticed the change in Volka’s tone of barking. I entered the woods. I walked the distance to my neighbor’s property line. Reaching there, I listened. I expected to spy someone violating the privacy of my neighbor’s property. I saw no one. From the safety of my property side of the post and rail fence, I visually searched my neighbor’s land. I varied my field of vision to cover all of my neighbor’s fenced-in property. It was clear to me that no one was at home; or as best I could tell without going into the house. I continued my visual inspection of everything in view. The coop came into my vista; but I glanced off it rotating my inspection of the grounds. My focus returned to the coop more than once. Finally I locked my vision on it. Volka’s muffled barking was coming from inside the bird shed. Volka could not get out. I was not going to enter the grounds to release Volka. I wouldn’t be caught dead on the same grounds with that irate animal. Again I wondered who was the slick operator behind the operation. “I was there, I heard that dog inside the shed” I reported to Terri. “Well did you let her out?” “Are you crazy”, I gasped. “If I did that, I wouldn’t be here to tell you about it.” “Are you sure that you saw no one?” “I’m very sure”, I replied. “There was no sign of anyone.” The mystery was puzzling. It was a daily topic. I paid special attention to Shadow’s whereabouts. Whenever I heard Volka barking, and Shadow was not at close hand, I used my binoculars to see if he was on the fence. I was afraid that the trespasser might have some fun at Shadow’s expense. Sometimes I would see Shadow sitting on the fence. I would on those occasions use the fullest magnification of my glasses to inspect the wooded landscape. Seeing nothing more, I would return to what I was doing. There was a time when I thought I heard the barking transition into a lower decibel. Was it because Volka was further afar as he roamed his own landscape? I wondered! Or, was Volka entrapped in the coop? I walked to the back property line to see if Shadow was still on the fence. He was not there. Volka’s barking, though it had the suggestion of distance, continued. I was sure that the sound was coming from inside the coop. Suddenly, from behind my position, I heard a noise in the brushes. I quickly turned, not knowing what to expect. To my relief I saw Shadow scampering through the grounded dry leaves making a dash back toward our house. Shadow was excited. His tail, looking like a raccoon hind part, was fully blown out to double its normal size. SOLVED: “While you were gone, I solved the mystery of Volka’s confinements”, Terri announced proudly. I dropped the bags of groceries to the kitchen table. A tolerant smile crossed my face. “No”, Terri said. “You’ve got to believe me. While you were gone I went into the woods to get some potting soil for my flowers. I wanted to transplant some of my cuttings of ivy; you know, to grow more roots. I wasn’t far from the fence line. Shadow was watching me; and I was watching Shadow too. Of course Volka was barking in her usual way, but I paid no mind to her.” “But then, for some reason I took notice of Volka making a run to the house. I supposed that someone might be at our neighbor’s front door. That’s when I saw that Shadow took note of the situation too. Shadow jumped off the fence onto Volka’s property. He went directly to the coop where the birds’ watering dishes were waiting. Well, that’s when I solved the mystery.” “I don’t get it”, I said. “You’re not making sense.” “Well, just listen”, Terri demanded. “Volka saw Shadow on his land and went nuts. The dog ran as fast as she could to deal with Shadow, the intruder. Shadow’s reaction was swift. In a wink, he bolted into the coop through the floor entry joined at the birds landing station on his side of the coop. I mean, Shadow flew through the swinging rods like there was no tomorrow. Volka was on Shadow’s heels. She angrily flashed through the rods into the coop too. I was scared to death that Shadow was going to be chewed to ribbons, I screamed! But then, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Shadow just as swiftly emerged at the same instant of Volka’s entry to the coop. Only, Shadow’s exit was from the other side of the shed floor. There are two entries for the birds. They are both draped with one way swing rods. Shadow’s slim physique hit the inside opening at an angle enabling him to bounce the swing of the draping rods to slip outside to escape the shed’s enclosure. He had the one way movement of the rods figured out. Volka was not able to get out because she is too corpulent, and quite honestly, not as bright as Shadow. The rods will swing in one direction only. So, like the birds who were at that time in flight, Volka was unable to get out of the bird shed.” “What a clever cat, that Shadow”, I beamed. “By the way, should we be concerned about those birds? How long can they stay up in the air?” Terri and I were in our Grand Marquis, returning home from a night at the movies. The movie we had seen was about a cat and a dog. Lost, they were in a struggle, with unfamiliar surroundings, to find their way home. The trail they followed, using their natural senses and sharp instincts, took the cat and dog over mountains and through rivers. “I got a lump in my throat watching that movie”, I said. “Did you?” “Are you kidding”, Terri replied. “I went through every tissue in my handbag. How do those film makers get those animals to act and react according to script?” “Training”, I replied. “The studios hire the best animal trainers.” “The dog in the movie was a Labrador; a retriever”, I said. “Wasn’t he something? I mean the way he retrieved the foodstuff for himself and the cat. I was really impressed.” “Big deal! Cats can retrieve too.” Terri countered. “You should spend more time training Shadow. You play with him but you don’t invest in him. He’ll amaze you with his ability to do a lot of things. Not the least of which is his ability to retrieve.” “Really? Has he retrieved for you?”
Copyright © 2003 John Caruso |