Meowmoirs of a Klepto Cat

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Meowmoirs of a Klepto Cat Page 12

by Patricia Fry


  All three of our cats were in a large pen at the clinic when Pete’s body was found there. We were having some work done in our home the day before that and decided to take all the animals to the clinic with us to keep them safe and worry-free. The three cats, Rags, Buffy, and Walter, seemed so content in the large pen that, when we were ready to leave work that evening we decided they should remain there overnight. And what a night the cats must have had.

  We got a call from an employee early the next morning saying that he had found the back door to the clinic standing open and Pete Gamble’s body inside. Naturally, Michael was a suspect. While Michael was fighting for his freedom and possibly his life, Rags knew all along who was responsible, and he tried to tell us. How? Here’s what happened.

  That awful morning after the body was discovered and everyone had been questioned, we removed the cats from the pen to take them home. As I approached Rags, I noticed he had something. Upon closer examination, I could see that it was a swatch of fabric. I thought it was a peculiar item to find inside the cat pen, so I took it, intending to show it to Detective Craig. When I remembered to give it to him, he was focused on other clues and then he forgot about it, until he hit his last roadblock in the case. Then he started grasping at straws.

  It was right around that time that something on the TV evening news caught my eye. It was the fabric. They showed a man being arrested for a totally different crime and he was wearing a lightweight jacket of what appeared to be the very same fabric as that swatch I’d found with Rags. I immediately called the detective and he took it from there.

  Sure enough, not only did Craig discover that a piece was missing from this fellow’s jacket, but the man also had a deep scratch on his upper thigh where Rags’s claw had penetrated his skin. Bingo! Craig’s first solid clue.

  As it turned out, this guy didn’t actually plan the murder or carry it out, but, once Rags had put him at the crime scene, he was more than eager to snitch on those responsible. I sometimes wonder where we would be if Rags hadn’t become involved in what was happening the night those goons dragged Pete Gamble’s body into the clinic. Yes, Rags is practically an expert when it comes to clues to a mystery or a crime. All we have to do is pay attention to what he’s trying to tell us.

  ****

  I still shudder to think about how close Colbi came to dying in a horrific house fire a few years ago. Rags very literally saved her life by digging up a clue just in the nick of time.

  By then, Rags had quite a stash in a little-used closet in our house. I learned to rummage through Rags’s secret hiding spot when I was missing an earring, my small address book, or something else I needed. While rummaging, I’d discover used tea bags, unpaid bills, letters, the kids’ toys, and often what I was looking for. Sometimes, out of the blue, Rags will bring me a gift from his stash, and often the gift is significant. I don’t know if he understands that, or if he just happens to bring me an important clue at just the right time.

  You see, Colbi is a journalist. She was writing an exposé on cat hoarders for the local newspaper a few years ago and she’d uncovered information that implicated a couple of local cat hoarders of the worst kind. One chilly night just before she turned in her story to the editor, Colbi was abducted. The authorities were pretty sure her abduction was connected to the story she’d been writing. Unfortunately, the manuscript and her laptop were also missing and she hadn’t shown the story to anyone.

  Days had passed by the time Rags brought me something from his stash. It was one of Auntie’s business cards. “Gee, Rags, thanks a lot,” I said sarcastically. Before discounting it, I turned it over to examine it further and that’s when I saw a strange name and address handwritten across the back. It didn’t ring a bell with me, so I tossed the card aside and then something clicked. Oh my gosh, I thought, that’s the name and address of those awful cat hoarders Auntie and I visited a few months ago. Could it possibly be? Are they the ones who…? I decided not to ignore this possible clue and I called Detective Craig. I still get queasy when I think about what would have happened if Rags hadn’t brought that card to me and if I hadn’t acted on it.

  As it turned out, rescuers were almost too late. Colbi was in pretty bad shape when they found her, along with several helpless cats, imprisoned in the basement of a house. Before fleeing, the hoarders had set the place on fire and Colbi had been overcome by smoke.

  ****

  Rags had also uncovered some vital clues related to the man who was killed in our home during that fundraiser several years ago. This murder was not premeditated; it was a crime of passion, so the weapon and other significant clues were haphazardly dealt with after the fact, which should have made it easy for the investigation team to find them. But while the experts were taking measurements, checking angles, talking to possible witnesses, and so forth, Rags was digging for clues, and he’s the one who found the murder weapon, buried in a shallow hole under the window the accomplice had escaped from. He also uncovered a couple of other items that turned out to be great clues in the case. Those clues were found later in his stash. What did he find? He dug up an inkwell from my aunt’s collection. That was the murder weapon. And he’d also confiscated a glove and a neckerchief, both of which were important clues.

  There was another death at our home a few years after that. Rags found the murder weapon in that case, too—Michael’s son’s toy fire truck. The murderer had tossed it out a second-story window and it was lodged in a large shrub several feet above the ground. The authorities missed it, but Rags sure didn’t.

  ****

  Cats are curious and can go where no one else can go or has gone for a long time. And when you’re talking about Rags, he’s liable to go the extra mile to snoop, dig, pry, and meddle. Here’s a story to illustrate Rags’s tendency to be a buttinski.

  It was an intense period for our elderly friend June Balcomb. Someone was harassing her and some of her staff members were being harmed. She didn’t have even an inkling about who was issuing the threats and causing chaos. And she didn’t know who, among her staff and helpers, she could trust. So our family and some of our closest friends moved into June’s home to take care of her, her estate, and her many beautiful cats. We believed that June was in danger and she agreed to, at least temporarily, toss out the old and bring in the new in order to possibly discover the culprit.

  While we were there, Rags located a packet that had been taped under a nightstand. As it turned out, this contained a substance designed to harm the elderly woman. It took some detective work to discover where it had come from, who had put it there, and what the person’s intention was. Without Rags’s tendency to poke around, things could have gone bad in a hurry.

  There was also a kidnapping and a murder at the Balcomb estate. Detective Craig and his men conducted interviews and searched endlessly for incriminating evidence, but it was Rags who revealed the clues that ultimately cleared some suspects and nailed others.

  Rags also reacted on behalf of June’s cats one night when a stranger delivered poisoned food to their pen. Rags so impressed June Balcomb and she was so appreciative that when she and her new partner, Nola, opened a cat shelter on her spacious property, June honored him by naming the shelter Ragsdale Cat Ranch.

  Rags doesn’t always work, play, scheme, plot, and roam alone. Sometimes he teams up with other animals.

  Chapter 8 – What Are Friends Fur?

  Rags certainly is an independent fellow, but he also seems to have a heart for other animals. Some animals he’s met have become his friends, and to the dismay of these pets’ human caretakers, he has been known to lead them astray.

  He made friends with both dogs and cats while we lived in Los Angeles. He also befriended children, a rabbit, a squirrel, a cockatoo, and a tortoise. Not all critters and kids he met were friendly though, and some he just didn’t click with.

  His friendship with the tortoise was unusual on many levels. For one, it’s an unlikely combination of animals, especially consi
dering Rags’s energy level. Rags met Desi, a desert tortoise, while we were taking a walk. In fact, we helped Desi out that day when we found him wandering on what appeared to be the wrong side of a fence. He seemed to be trying to claw his way back into the yard, so I knocked on the door to alert the residents. Sure enough, he was their tortoise and he had escaped…again. Maybe that was the basis for this friendship—Rags and Desi are both little Houdinis.

  The woman said that ever since their cat had run away, the tortoise kept getting out, as if he were searching for his friend. She told me that, in order to escape, he would tip his body sideways and scoot through the slats in their gate. Pretty smart for a tortoise. But then, I don’t know much about the brain and thought process of those reptiles.

  To my knowledge, Rags had never met a tortoise or a turtle, and he was curious, but he was also somewhat wary. He didn’t seem to want the tortoise in his space that day. Desi, on the other hand, kept creeping toward Rags, causing the cat to step back again and again. Once when Desi got close, Rags swatted with what appeared to be a soft paw and Desi pulled his head inside his shell. This puzzled Rags. He stared at the tortoise, then moved closer and peered inside the shell. When Desi’s head popped out again, Rags was so startled that he jumped and landed in a bed of cyclamens. Desi’s owner, Phyllis, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Funnier still was the look on Rags’s face as he attempted to regain his poise. Phyllis said, tongue in cheek, “He meant to do that.”

  Phyllis told me that Rags actually resembled the kitty they’d lost, except that their cat had more white on him than Rags does. She wondered if the tortoise recognized Rags as his friend, Billie. One day after several visits, during which the two unlikely playmates had become better acquainted, Phyllis asked, “Rags, want to go for a ride?”

  I didn’t know how Rags would react to that, but I soon pulled out my phone and started taking pictures of him sitting on the large tortoise’s back for a ride around the yard. Rags actually seemed to enjoy it. And he definitely had acquired an affinity for Desi. After that day, we couldn’t walk near Desi’s yard without stopping so Rags could visit the tortoise.

  A few weeks later Phyllis found Billie at a local animal shelter and Desi was happy to be reunited with his friend. But the tortoise still seemed to enjoy Rags’s visits for as long as we lived in that neighborhood, and although Rags was curious about Desi and definitely wanted to spend time with the tortoise, he never seemed to quite figure out what kind of animal he was. And he sure didn’t understand what happened when Desi disappeared into his shell.

  ****

  When Michael and I married, he brought with him an adorable, sweet Himalayan-mix kitty named Buffy. She was originally a frequent boarder. Her owner, Mrs. Anderson, left Buffy with Michael when she traveled, but she didn’t want the cat caged in the back of the clinic with the other boarders and patients. So Michael would take Buffy home with him. When Mrs. Anderson died, her family gave Buffy to Michael.

  Now, Buffy is a bit persnickety and she isn’t all that social when it comes to other animals. She does make up to people, though, and adores curling up in a lap just about any time with just about anyone.

  Rags has never bothered getting to know Buffy all that well, I guess because she’s a little aloof, but he certainly lusts after her pink canopy bed. In fact, when Michael and I first set up housekeeping, we’d find Rags sprawled across her bed so often that we finally bought another one so Buffy would always have one when she wanted it.

  Michael also brought a part-afghan hound dog named Lexie and a black cat named Walter into our union. Again, Rags acknowledges them, but he isn’t particularly close to them. I truly believe that he was happier as an only pet, except for Peaches. He adores my mare. I can’t wait to tell you more about that unlikely friendship.

  Rags’s seeming indifference toward our pets certainly doesn’t keep him from trying to protect them, however.

  One summer Michael’s college buddy, Peter, offered his beautiful Southern California beach house to our family for a few weeks. We invited my mother to join us and help with our baby daughter, Lily. We boarded the horse and, with Peter’s okay, brought the cats and dog with us.

  When we arrived, Peter told us that he was struggling with a possible case of sabotage. By then he had carved out a successful profession as an artist and it appeared that someone was trying to ruin him. One day while he was visiting us at the beach house, he received a delivery of his favorite treat—baklava. Before Peter could take a bite, he was distracted by some disturbing news. He ultimately lost his appetite and tossed the pastry into the nearest trash basket. Unfortunately Lexie found the tasty-looking morsel and she had started to eat it when Rags intervened.

  I walked into the kitchen in time to see the two animals staring down at what was left of the baklava. As Lexie prepared to finish eating the flaky dessert, Rags quickly reached out and swatted at it with as much force as he could manage. It was obvious that Rags did not like what he smelled and he was going to do it in. About the same time, Lexie began to vomit.

  I quickly picked up the baklava, and, because of the problems Peter had been experiencing during that week, I decided to have it analyzed. It was meant for Peter, after all. Sure enough, it had been laced with some sort of poison, and Rags must have sensed it. His actions definitely saved Lexie’s life. That’s when I realized that maybe he does feel something for Lexie and perhaps, the other two cats in our household. Or is he just naturally compassionate? It’s hard to know. But we do know that Rags has a greater depth of feeling or interest in some animals over others, and he becomes especially close with those who share his sense of adventure and daring.

  ****

  A few years ago the entire community was concerned when a beloved former teacher went missing. Leo Kittleman was elderly at that time and starting to slip mentally. As time passed with no word and no sightings of the man, it was feared that he had met with a tragic end. At the same time, Colbi and Damon had married and they’d just moved into a new home with their sweet kitty, Dolly.

  I offered to help Colbi unpack some of their things. Since Dolly and Rags were besties by then, it wasn’t unusual that I would take Rags with me. That turned out to be a big mistake and also a blessing. While they were exploring the new home, the two feline rascals discovered an open window that was missing a screen and they decided to escape into the big, exciting world.

  We looked everywhere for those cats, to no avail. One day turned into two and they still hadn’t shown up. It was a very difficult time. I began to fear I’d never see Rags again. And Colbi was beside herself with worry for Dolly. The two finally returned to Colbi’s and Damon’s house none the worse for wear, except that Rags had a smear of what appeared to be blood on his fur. Colbi was first to notice this. Being a reporter with a flair for the dramatic, she questioned the fact that neither cat had so much as a scratch or puncture wound. So where did the blood come from? Whose blood was it? I mean, we don’t know where the cats had been over the many hours they were missing, but we did know that during that time there had been a murder and Mr. Kittleman was still missing.

  Could the cats have come across the body or an injured Mr. Kittleman? Or was it simply blood from a rodent they’d caught for their supper? The cats weren’t telling, and Michael thought the question was important enough to check out, so he tested the blood to find out if it was animal or human.

  We were all stunned to learn that it was human blood, and it was the same type as Mr. Kittleman’s. It seems that the cats had been in contact with the elderly gentleman.

  We believed that time was running out for the former teacher. How in the world could we trace the cats’ path and possibly find the man before it was too late? How, indeed? We would re-create Rags’s and Dolly’s trail by asking for the public’s help. Brilliant!

  Colbi ran a piece in the local newspaper with pictures of Rags and Dolly, asking if anyone had seen them during the specific dates they were missing. She asked folks to check t
heir surveillance cameras and to call if the cats showed up on their film. Boy, did we learn a lot about how cats travel and what they do when they’re out and about on their own. But none of the eyewitness reports or videos included Mr. Kittleman or any real clues as to where he might be. Before we gave up, however, there was one witness we hadn’t spoken with. According to the timeline, we believed that she was the last person to see the cats before they returned home. She lived fairly close to Colbi and Damon, and she thought she’d seen the cats take a path leading into a wash behind her house. In fact, she had fed them before they left and said she had not noticed any blood on Rags’s fur at that time.

  Bingo! This was our first real clue. Even Craig was encouraged. He decided to take the trail the woman had indicated, and he wanted Rags to go with him. This meant that I would also trudge down into the wash. As eager as I was to help find Mr. Kittleman, I certainly had reservations about this outing. What if the poor teacher had met with an accident down there—or worse? And I sure didn’t want to put Rags in danger of being bitten by a rattler or attacked by a coyote.

  Sure enough, Rags led us to the place where Leo Kittleman was staying with a homeless woman named Alice in the wash behind Colbi’s and Damon’s house. That’s where the two cats had met up with the former teacher and that’s where Rags picked up the blood smear from a wound the man had acquired after having fallen a day or so earlier. Mr. Kittleman was in good shape. He’d just wandered too far away from his home and lost his bearings. Alice happened to meet up with him and she led him to her place where he remained safe until Rags ushered us to Alice’s camp that day.

  I must say that I was thrilled to be a part of this rescue and very pleased with my feline sidekick—well, except for the fact that he’d escaped and worried us by staying gone for so long. But what’s a mere cat custodian to do? Some people adopt well-behaved, well-mannered cats that are content to loll around the house and are available any time a snuggle or a petting is in order. Other folks end up with a more adventurous cat, like Rags. There’s rarely a dull moment with him. Not only does he keep things interesting and lively, but he also does more than his share of good. And this doesn’t always come without some level of embarrassment. Like the time he and Dolly exposed Colbi’s brother, Harrison, as a thief.

 

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