Meowmoirs of a Klepto Cat

by Patricia Fry

  Her car was found later, burned pretty much beyond recognition. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Rags and Dolly were missing.

  Auntie tearfully confessed that, indeed, she had had Rags and Dolly with her, for which she apologized profusely. She said the cats were still in the car when the carjackers dropped her off. It was obvious that she felt awful, but she couldn’t have hurt as deeply as I did. To think that Rags had been burned to death was unbearable. In fact, it was impossible to comprehend.

  I had to know for sure. I mean, maybe the hijackers took the cats with them. So the next day we hiked down to the crash site. The car and everything inside it were completely burned. The only thing we found of the cats were a few charred pieces of Rags’s leash. That was it. There were no signs of the cats having been cremated or having escaped, either one. But we figured that the chances were slim to none that they had survived the crash, let alone the fire. Colbi and I tried to get used to the idea that the cats were gone. That was certainly one of the low points in my life. My heart ached for Rags and broke when I considered what he and Dolly must have gone through.

  A few days later, when we returned to the Bowmans’ place to ride the horses back to Bonnie’s stables, the stable owner said something about a cat that had shown up that morning. I didn’t think much about it, but when I glanced into the distance and saw a cat walking toward me, I realized that it was Rags. Dolly was with him. The pair were in pretty rough shape, but alive. What a happy day that was.

  Colbi told me later that she’s sure Rags saved Dolly’s life during those days they spent in the wilderness, because Dolly was still a young cat and didn’t have the experience Rags had—I agreed with her that Rags helped lead his good friend Dolly through the awful ordeal safely.

  ****

  One of Rags’s most memorable animal rescues occurred on a chilly night just outside our home here in Hammond. Michael and I were watching a local news report on TV and we noticed Rags racing around the house. At one point he stopped and stared at the TV screen. They were showing a picture of a beautiful Himalayan cat that had gone missing. As it turns out, Michael knew the cat and the owner and he was concerned because Mazie Mae was ill and needed care. He was also concerned for her owner, June Balcomb, because she was elderly, rather fragile, and she absolutely adored her cats.

  So that evening, after looking at the TV for a few moments, Rags ran out of the room. A few seconds later, he came back, took another look at the TV and ran out again. This time, I followed him into the kitchen, where he jumped up onto his window perch and began dancing around as if he was worried about something he could see outside.

  He convinced me that something was wrong, so I opened the kitchen door to peer out, and off he went between my feet into the night. No amount of calling would bring him back. When he hadn’t returned by bedtime, I just went to bed and tried to sleep, hoping I’d find him curled up on a deck chair cushion the following morning.

  But alas, when I got up he was still missing. I dressed and went out looking for him in the crisp morning air. What I found was startling. He wasn’t hiding. He wasn’t injured. He hadn’t run away. When I came within hearing distance of him, he called out to me and I found my way to him.

  There he was, lying next to a beautiful Himalayan cat that didn’t look well. Yes, it was June Balcomb’s beloved cat, Mazie Mae. Had he actually seen her outside and recognized her photo on the TV that night? We also had to wonder how she got to our house. June lived quite a distance from us, and it was doubtful that a cat in Mazie Mae’s condition could have walked around the block, let alone several miles. We learned later that someone had taken the sweet cat from her home and dropped her off. It was a malicious act.

  We believe that Rags kept Mazie Mae warm that night and he may even have saved her life. Of course, when I found the cats I brought Mazie Mae inside, and we wrapped her in a heated blanket in an attempt to raise her body temperature. In the meantime, Michael called June, who was extremely happy and grateful that we’d found her precious kitty. She was so grateful, in fact, that once Mazie Mae was feeling better, June invited Rags on a playdate at her home in her amazing cat room with her menagerie of cats. Because I went with Rags when he visited Mazie Mae and the other cats, June and I became well-acquainted and were soon fast friends.

  Later, when June was being hassled and her cats were being threatened, Rags served as an unofficial sentry for the cat pen. You see, June planned to leave her wealth to the care of her cats as well as any homeless cats that needed shelter and food. Whoever was causing her concern must have figured that if he (or she) destroyed the cats, June would leave her money to him or her. But that wasn’t going to happen with Rags on duty.

  ****

  When we travel with our children and pets, we take regular breaks to allow them periods of activity in a park setting, when possible. Once, when we stopped in Colorado, we happened upon some teens who were searching for their grandmother’s cat, Lucy. Of course, Adam, Rags, and I got involved, and it was Rags who found Lucy stuck inside a pipe in a cranky old man’s backyard. Rather than help Lucy, the resident, Mr. Fields, had covered the pipe, which was down in a hole, with a piece of plywood so he couldn’t hear the poor little thing cry. I was livid. Adam couldn’t believe anyone could do such a thing. And Rags was not happy, either.

  So what did we do? We forced our good intentions on Mr. Fields, and with help from a few neighbors, we managed to free the cat. Rags seemed to know that Lucy was frightened and he stayed close to her throughout the ordeal. Lucy’s mom, Bert, was thrilled to have her kitty back and so appreciative of Rags that she and Lucy came to visit us in our temporary Colorado home.

  Unfortunately, Bert wound up in the hospital that week. Lucy stayed with us and I’m afraid Rags wasn’t the best example for a young, impressionable cat, which was often the case. Rags simply did whatever he felt inclined to do, which seems to be a cat’s prerogative—maybe their birthright. However, not every cat becomes so entrenched in the things going on around them.

  ****

  I’ll never forget the time someone was letting cats out of the pens at Auntie’s and Max’s cat shelter. They had their suspicions about who was doing it, but they were way off base. Rags knew who it was, and he ultimately had a paw in catching the perpetrator red-handed.

  When a cat went missing from the shelter or when Max took in a particularly nervous cat or kitten, he often asked if Rags could come over to help find a missing cat or calm a nervous cat. And sometimes Rags simply sneaked out and wander over to Auntie’s to be with the shelter cats. If he sensed that one was frightened or ill, he’d sometimes climb into an empty pen next to the cat and lie with it all night.

  Compassion seems to ooze from Rags, especially when other animals are concerned. In fact, he’s so good with ill and nervous animals that Michael used him as a therapy cat at the field veterinary clinic he ran one year on Thanksgiving for animals that belonged to homeless people.

  Rags was a handful that day because he kept sneaking out of the clinic area to join the children in the playground or to see what was going on at the chow line. But Rags earned his keep when he was on duty; he stood by to quiet nervous dogs and ease the jitters for a few skittish cats.

  He seems to have a knack for finding missing persons, too. Or else he just happens to wander into the right place at the right time.

  ****

  Some of Rags’s most spectacular stories involve missing persons. We still wonder how he came upon the former teacher, Leo Kittleman, when a whole department of deputies couldn’t find him. I guess there’s no way of knowing if Rags is ultra-sensitive or maybe super-intuitive, but he makes some of his discoveries look easy and sometimes even logical. Like the time he led us to Detective Craig after someone with a grudge nabbed him and held him in a cave.

  Craig was already pretty fond of Rags and quite infatuated with some of his abilities, but when Rags found what almost became Craig’s grave, this really endeared him to the cat. I tru
ly believe that Craig thought he would die alone without anyone knowing. I mean, he’d been lying in that dank, dark cave for quite a while before we were able to find him.

  In times like this, when we can’t locate someone or when there’s a mystery we can’t untangle, we often call on our friend, Rochelle. She’s a psychic—a seer of sorts, and she can usually help us to unravel a tough mystery or find a missing person. In Detective Craig’s case, she was right on with her description of where he was being held.

  She was able to paint an exact picture of the immediate surroundings, but we had to use our knowledge of the area and our common sense to find the exact spot. Once we thought we knew where it might be, a sheriff’s deputy and I took Rags in there and, of course, the cat led us right to Craig.

  After we found Craig, I caught Rags biting at Craig’s face. It took me a few moments to realize that the cat wasn’t actually biting Craig, but he was trying to chew off the gag over Craig’s mouth.

  Boy, was the detective glad to see us. He was grateful to Rochelle for helping us pinpoint where he was being held, and thrilled with Rags for leading us to him. But he also acknowledged a couple of feral cats for saving his sanity if not his life. The feral cats were living in the tall reeds around the cave where Craig was being held and it seems they considered Craig one of them. They helped to keep him warm at night and alert during the day. After his hospital stay, Craig adopted those cats and planned to take care of them for the rest of their lives.

  ****

  While some people love Rags, crooks hate him—especially the ones he has “pawed.” And one of his confirmed enemies was Damon Jackson, Iris’s son, who eventually became Colbi’s husband. When Damon was young, he became an accessory after the fact in a murder and Rags was aware that Damon was involved. It was the cat’s reaction to Damon during a lineup, of sorts, that caused Damon to confess. This wasn’t Damon’s only run-in with the law. He was a troubled young man with a drug addiction and no positive male role model. But this time, he was arrested on more serious charges and it was Rags who helped put him in prison. To this day, Damon has never forgotten it. At first, he blamed Rags.

  Damon didn’t try to hide the fact that he hated cats, especially Rags. And then something happened to change that. In fact, things turned around big-time for Damon. He got a jail term, all right, for his part in trying to cover up the killer’s trail. But by then, Detective Craig had fallen in love with Iris and he developed a liking for the young man. He’d lost a son of his own to drugs and he saw this as an opportunity to help and maybe save someone who was in a very similar situation. So he spent a lot of time with Damon while he was in prison, counseling him and making sure he attended helpful programs.

  Consequently, Damon was released early. He began following his newly found passion for writing and he landed a job at the same newspaper where Colbi worked. The two of them established a rather interesting relationship, consisting of friendly competition related to their reporting and writing work. They spent a lot of time together and enjoyed each other’s company. When Colbi was kidnapped, he began to realize just how much he loved her. In fact, he loved Colbi so much that, even though he hated cats, he began feeding the feral cats at her home, because he knew how much they meant to her.

  Before Colbi was rescued, Damon discovered a sickly kitten under her porch. He realized the poor thing probably needed medical intervention, and he decided to help out. He still believed he was a cat-hater, but the kitten was going to need constant care for a few days, and there was no one else to do it. Damon actually wanted to take care of the kitten for Colbi. He had to believe that he was doing something for her. And lo and behold, he began to feel something for the sweet little tabby. In fact, he’s the one who named her Dolly.

  As I said, Damon never forgot Rags’s role in his arrest and imprisonment. He still hated all cats, except for Dolly. And he particularly despised Rags.

  Over time, however, he began to see things differently. Now when he speaks of his imprisonment, which is rare, he will tell you that he puts only some of the blame for his predicament on Rags and that he’s awfully glad for Rags’s part in it. He says that he used to think Rags had ruined his life. Now he praises Rags for saving his life.

  ****

  One winter, Rags saved the life of a beautiful little girl named Marissa. I had volunteered to help my friend, Shelly, with a photography program for at-risk children. Marissa joined the small, eclectic group. When she and Rags met, it was love at first sight. When she went missing and it was feared that she’d met with foul play, Rags was involved in the search for her.

  No one thought Rags would succeed after a team of dogs failed to locate Marissa. But he did, and it was one of the most heartwarming rescues ever.

  Later he saved a young friend of Marissa’s who had run away from home with her dog to escape her stepfather’s abuse. Along with a few of our friends, we flew out to Marissa’s new home in Connecticut, where she lives with her grandparents, to surprise her on her birthday. When we learned that a child was missing and after Adam and Rags found a couple of possible clues, Michael and Craig took the children and Rags out one morning to follow a hunch. And Rags led them to where the little girl was hiding.

  By then the local police were involved and the child, Tori, told the truth about why she had run off. This gave her older sister the courage to speak up too. Their mother was appalled by the allegations, but thankfully she believed her children and the abuser was arrested.

  Bless Rags and his stubborn persistence and obviously keen instincts.

  Chapter 10 – I Can’t Believe a Cat Did That!

  Rags attracts attention wherever we go, especially since he has been featured in a couple of newspaper articles, a documentary, and a series of children’s books. Because of this, I’m very cautious about someone taking him. To my horror, it happened once when we were in Los Angeles. Yes, Rags was catnapped!

  It all started when my aunt and I were driving to LA with Lily and Rags for a weekend of book signings. We planned to stay with my mother. On the way, we stopped for gas and picked up a few snacks at an adjacent convenience store, when Rags somehow escaped. We actually drove off without him and didn’t even notice he was gone. When we realized he was missing, we returned to the gas station. I was frantic and being pregnant with our son didn’t help. After returning to the station, I searched everywhere, calling and calling for him. But Rags did not respond. I questioned employees, spoke to customers, and even asked a homeless man out behind the place if he’d seen Rags. There was absolutely no sign of him. I was afraid I would lose it when suddenly I heard a horn honking. I looked up and saw that it was my aunt trying to get my attention.

  “He’s in that car!” she screeched. She waved her arm wildly, shouting, “Rags is in that car!”

  Now I was in full-blown panic mode. I moved as fast as my baby bump would allow, climbed behind the wheel, and took off after the small red car Auntie had pointed out. What a fiasco. We drove for miles, keeping the car in sight, terrified that we’d lose it. The driver finally turned into a tract, pulled into a driveway, and stopped.

  The poor man must have thought I was a crazed stalker when I practically dove out of the car and swiftly approached him. I could see the cat in his car, along with two small children. But when I took a second look, I saw that it was a grey-and-white cat, all right, but it wasn’t Rags. How embarrassing. The gentleman and his children had just picked up Missy from their veterinarian, where she’d been spayed.

  I apologized profusely and Auntie, Lily, and I rushed back to the service station, sill hoping to find Rags. But what were the chances? If someone had taken him, they’d be gone. I couldn’t let him go that easily, though. I just had to give it another shot.

  As it turned out, Rags was still at the gas station. I found him inside the convenience store, surrounded by a small group of people; a heavyset woman was feeding him kitty treats. I felt such relief. But, when I walked toward him and announced that he was
my cat, the woman stood up and challenged me.

  “Oh no he isn’t,” she said. “I found him, he’s mine. If he’s yours, explain how he got here.”

  I told her that he’d slipped out of the car while we were getting gas and she carped, “How do I know he escaped from your car? Maybe you dropped him off, then changed your mind and came back for him.” She sneered when she asked, “Do you have proof that he’s yours?”

  Well, I was pretty rattled by then, and scared. Thankfully, a young woman in the crowd said she’d seen Rags before. She had seen his documentary. I was elated. I explained, “Yes. His name’s Rags and we’re on our way to do some book signings in Los Angeles.”

  The evil woman guffawed right in my face. She said something about that being the dumbest thing she’d ever heard and insisted that Rags would be better off with her. Even when I showed her pictures of Rags on my phone and some promotional material Rob had sent me for the books, she didn’t believe me. Or she chose not to.

  The incident became so heated that the cops were called. Fortunately, the officers believed my proof over that woman’s prattle and let us take Rags and continue our trip.

  That was not the last of Marvelle, the potential catnapper. She showed up at one of the book signings and actually managed to get her hands on Rags again. How? A sweet bookstore manager had offered to walk him outside. She sat down to speak to a customer. That’s right; she turned her back on Rags, and evidently, Marvelle cut his leash and took off with him, but we didn’t know that at the time. We had no idea where he’d gone or what had happened. All we knew was that Rags was missing again.