Fugitive
Well, first of all, it’s hard to get good help these days, especially when you are the run. My staff has been a bit preoccupied, but FINALLY my amanuensis is doing her job and recording my blog. Geeze, what’s a cat have to do to be heard around here?
If you follow my story, you know that I narrowly escaped being captured by the cat cops after last fall’s “Love Bite” incident (see my previous blog). I have been on the best behavior that I can manage and have not inflicted anymore ER visit level love bites, although occasionally I like to have a little nibble. I tell you, it has just been nerve wracking waiting for the bell to ring and bring back the uniformed officers who want to lock me up. My staff, noting how edgy I have become to do the twenty-three skidoo, is finally taking the hint and has at last obtained a proper getaway vehicle for me.
We tested it out very recently. As a getaway vehicle, I would rate it a 10 out of 10 overall. I have cozy nooks to hide in, a private bathroom and great views out the windows of the passing countryside. All was going swimmingly until my Secondary Human decided to inflict a little revenge on me for the afore mentioned ER visit level love bite of last fall.
There I was, tooling along Highway 19 in the Lone Star State, when all of a sudden, my Secondary Human pulled over to the side of the road unexpectedly. This was against my instructions, but he said he couldn’t help it, there was engine trouble with my new getaway vehicle, a likely story. While he and my Primary Human figured out what to do, I kept watch for the cat cops. It would be just like the cat cops to sabotage my ride and then snag me while I was stranded. I was a coiled spring, staying on the alert. The best the Humans could do about the situation was to call what is called a “tow truck” to take my getaway vehicle to a service center for repair. Note previous observation, good help is hard to find.
Here is where I should mention that my new getaway vehicle is a bit oversized. It is my understanding that ten thousand pounds and 24 feet of getaway vehicle is not easy to tow. The first tow truck arrived after about two and a half hours. That’s a long time to be on coiled spring lookout for the fuzz. What happened next was worse than being captured by the cops (I think). The tow truck tried to hoist my big getaway vehicle up onto its little back and whoa, it was a tippy and awful experience for me hiding in my spot. My Secondary Human almost had an aneurysm watching the tires of the tow truck lift off the ground and my getaway vehicle pitch back and forth, serves him right for inflicting this bit of revenge on me. Long story short, it didn’t work. Off went that tow truck and now it was two and a half more hours of coiled spring lookout time while waiting for another tow truck to come get me. See previous note again, good help is hard to find.
The second truck finally arrived and after a tippy and terrifying process, hoisted my rig onto its back. We were ready to roll. My Humans took the easy riding spot in the cab of the truck and left me in hiding in the getaway vehicle, apparently phase two of the Secondary Human’s revenge plan. I don’t know if you have ever been on a bucking bronco, most humans have not, no cats have ever been because we are not stupid, but I know now exactly how it must feel and it is not a good experience. Once that ordeal was over, my getaway vehicle was stashed in a big service center to be worked on by kindly strangers. They made sure that I was cool and comfortable and listened patiently while I told them about the bad help I’d had to endure that day and my flight from the cat cops. They were very understanding and fixed my rig up quickly with a brand-new serpentine belt and bearing. At last, I was back on the road. Thank goodness I finally encountered some good help.
I certainly hope that doesn’t happen ever again. It’s not bad being on the run with my Primary and Secondary Humans. I like the days when we are tucked in somewhere, safe from the cat cops and just relaxing in my getaway vehicle the best. I even let them sleep on my bed with me, they are warm and cozy and give me good ear rubs. I guess they’re not so bad as far as help goes. They did keep me out of hands of the cat cops for a few more weeks and I got to see some very pretty spots in Texas and meet some good people.
Speaking of good people, some of my fans, well actually just one, has expressed a wish to send me fan mail. I believe the words were, “Where is the comment section?”, but I know what was meant. Did I mention that it is hard to get good help? My staff can’t figure out how to add a comment section to this blog and that is a probably a very good thing.
As far as ‘comments’, aka ‘fan mail’ goes, my staff usually handles that sort of thing for me, but if you feel compelled to leave me a ‘comment’, you can send an email to:
ourramblinvan@gmail.com
Sincerely,
Butch Catsidy, Fugitive
Transcribed by: Primary Human