Clamorgate Alert!

There is a small kitty door in my kitchen door. Charli and Patches use it when they want to go outside. They know not to go outside at night because there are coyotes, owls and other native predators in our neighborhood, so I haven’t closed it in years.

Well, last night I was sound asleep at about 11 when all hell broke loose in my kitchen, which is just outside my bedroom door. Pots and pans were hitting the floor and there was a lot of screeching and scratching going on.

I jumped up, turned on the kitchen light and found the neighborhood feral cat hanging in the curtains of my kitchen door, looking as if she’d been chased there by some kind of monster.  Apparently my little Charli had hissed at her, essentially telling her, “You’re fine in the yard, within reason, but keep your furry butt out of our house!”

The feral cat had found her way into the kitchen via the kitty door but had apparently forgotten where it was, so she felt cornered.

And then, of course, when she saw me, she probably figured I had an even bigger “oh hell no!” in mind, and she became even more terrified, which was quite a feat, as terrified as she already was.

I hastened to assure her that everything was all right, that she wasn’t in any trouble, but she doesn’t speak English or human body language, so she dropped to the floor and raced into my living room, where she hid so successfully that I couldn’t even discover where, even though I was pretty much right on her heels.

I assured her she was okay again, added some food to the cat dish, propped the kitty door open a little bit with the end of a broom handle, turned out the lights, and went back to bed, hoping she’d find her way out by daylight.

I believe she has, but all bets are off.  She might still be in my living room, for all I know.  But both Charli and Patches are entirely relaxed again, so I expect she has left, and I expect I will be finding her in the crow food again whenever I don’t put a dish out for her.

I feed the crows a can of cat food every day as a reward and thank you because they keep hawks, eagles and other areial predators away from my hens when they’re out and about.  Several times I have found the feral cat perched high on the doorway into the hen pen, eating the crows’ food, so I’ve started putting food out for her, too.

I reckon I forgot last night, so she came in to help herself. She probably won’t be doing that again after last night’s Clamorgate!