THE ESCAPEE
Living as a cat in a human-dominated world can sometimes be pleasant, but often-times it can be very troublesome, indeed.
I’m a gray-coloured Tabby on the run from the Montreal
Animal Shelter.
I did nothing to deserve my present status as an escapee.
Well, let me briefly tell you my story.
Currently, it’s Friday evening, 8:30 P.M. and I’m slithering through a vast, dark residential neighbourhood in Montreal North.
I was initially captured by an Animal Control Officer on Tuesday at roughly 1:00 P.M., immediately after I’d eaten a very satisfying seafood lunch.
Hank’s Seafood Restaurant is a well-respected restaurant. Many stray animals have actually eaten the scraps of fish that are thrown away by restaurant workers. That’s how tasty their food is.
I’d made a fatal error; while eating seafood that I’d just snatched from inside the restaurant in broad daylight in the park behind the restaurant. I’d become so brazen, hitting one restaurant after another, and supermarkets every now and then too.
The animal control officer, a short pudgy middle aged woman snuck up from behind me and then shot me with a tranquilizer. That’s not the worst of it, I was also netted. Animal control officers can be very intent on capturing a specific troublesome animal.
I’m certain she gave me at least triple the dose of tranquilizer needed to knock me out, but because I was already on the run from previous ‘free meal activities’ I guess the city had had enough of my escapades.
I don’t see anything wrong with a cat snatching a free meal here and there from different establishments; damn, it is tough living on the streets! Besides, cats are an asset to this world. You humans owe us so much for all the ‘free good’ that we’ve done for you.
Before I knew it, I’d found myself awakening in a filthy, stinking animal shelter. The food in my bowl consisted of stinky grub. The water was warm, not cool.
I spent just under three nights therein, but planned my escape as soon as the effects of the tranquilizer reached the half life mark.
Just an hour ago, at 7:30 P.M. to be exact, I played sick, inducing a vomiting fit and then ‘begging’ the shelter worker on duty to come to my aid.
The shelter worker entered our ward roughly a minute after I began my act.
Although the shelter worker was a giant of a man, perhaps six feet five inches tall and weighing over 250 pounds my feline instincts took over.
I waited until he opened my cage and pulled me out to make my move.
As soon as I was within striking range, I gave the shelter worker a right cross that literally knocked him out.
Thereafter, I didn’t pause for a single second. There was no time to waste, because the other shelter cats and dogs, many of them in dire straits became envious of me; and when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to help them they threw a fit, screaming their heads off.
The envious animals were shouting ‘escapee’ over and over again. They were trying to jinx me. It didn’t faze me one iota.
I ran out of the ward and then through the hallway but met a temporary obstacle. The veterinarian of the shelter, a Dr. Elvira Robinson charged me with full force, she was glaring and red-faced.
I did what I had to I leaped onto her chest, knocking her entire body backwards and onto the floor.
That was the last obstacle at the shelter. But just a few minutes later, I began to hear police sirens converging upon the animal shelter.
I continued walking southbound and slightly east towards the downtown core. It would be a better place to live in. It’s easier for a cat to get lost in the crowd.
It’s nice strolling through a clean, quiet residential area on a moon lit night, with stars engulfing the sky.
Most humans think that cats never glance up at the sky; that they don’t even notice the sun, moon, stars or other terrestrial bodies therein. That’s a bit stupid.
After roughly an hour of walking I decided to shift direction, heading due south. I was now within ‘striking range’ of the downtown core.
But just as I crossed the street a vehicle with high beam lights turned on approached me. Instantly, I took cover underneath a dark-coloured van, not knowing if the driver of the vehicle had seen me.
To my utter shock, as the vehicle slowly passed me I noticed that it was a patrol car. The Montreal Police were searching the area for an escapee cat. That cat, of course, was yours truly.
I waited until the patrol car was out of sight before squeezing my beautiful body out from underneath the van.
The sheer shock of seeing the patrol car caused me to poop and pee. I pictured the owner of the van throwing a fit the following morning. The stench would certainly be unbearable.
Worse yet, part of my poop and pee had dropped just underneath the driver’s door. The driver would likely step on my excrement. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to clean up after myself.
I had more important matters at hand. Besides, there was likely to be a handsome reward for my capture. I had to continue trekking.
I scanned the area, using my eyes, ears and nose to detect danger. I scented a few dogs in the area but they were likely getting ready to hit the sack. I also scented a lone squirrel nearby.
Squirrels generally don’t pose a threat to cats, unless, as in my case, the individual notifies the police after seeing me.
As I continued my trek a lone person called out to me. “PSST, hey there, come here please.”
“Huh, who is that?”
“Kitty, over here, I’m atop this tree, the Maple tree in front of Building #1225.”
Before I zoomed in on the building, I suddenly realized that I was no longer embedded deep within a quiet residential area. I was very close to a major street Cote des Neiges Street is busy, indeed.
I zoomed in on the tree, noticing a lone squirrel. She had a walnut in her hand and a big smile on her face.
I glanced to my left and then to my right, crossed the street, pausing midway to take a deep breath and then exhaling. I had no way of knowing if this particular squirrel was stalling for time so I could be apprehended. She’d likely receive a handsome reward allowing her to eat all the walnuts, pecans and whatever else she wanted for the rest of her natural life.
I decided to approach the squirrel with extreme caution. I needed friends not enemies.
As soon as I got to within a foot of the Maple tree I leaped onto the trunk and then scaled my way up to a high-level branch. Now, I was standing beside the squirrel.
The squirrel looked full, having eaten her fill for weeks– on-end. Furthermore, she was really cute and pretty too ... I mean, for a squirrel. Squirrels are rodents though. “Hi honey, what’s your name?”
“Umm, my ... umm ... I’m Zoe Marshall Thomas.
Zoe rhymes with Joey, and like umm ... it’s one of those unisex names. But, I’m a male, not a female as you can see.”
“Gross, please don’t show me your under-parts again! I know the difference between a male and a female kitty.” “Sorry about that. I won’t do it again.”
“Look, Zoe, how about you and I chomp down on some of these walnuts and peanuts?”
“Wow, I can’t remember ever eating this kind of food before. Maybe, it’s because of my heritage. My ancestors didn’t eat this kind of food.”
“Oh, sorry, wait a second. I forgot to formally introduce myself. My name is Brenda Banner.”
There was a lull during our conversation, lasting roughly 10 minutes. We chomped down on our tasty snacks. Later, we resumed our conversation.
“Zoe, do you want any more food? I’ve got much more atop this tree. See that branch way up there?”
I glanced up at the branch and then gave Brenda a nod indicating a ‘no’ answer. Then, I rubbed my belly indicating that I was full and could not eat any more. I was, for the most part satiated.
“Zoe, did you hear about the maniac roaming the streets of Montreal North?”
“Huh, what maniac, I didn’t hear anything about him.”
“Zoe, a ferocious lion-like kitty escaped from the Montreal Animal Shelter just a few hours ago. He brutally assaulted a shelter volunteer worker, literally knocking him out.
The shelter volunteer endured a broken cheek bone. As for Dr. Robinson, she’s still in a coma. Apparently, the maniacal kitty pounced on her, causing her to land on her back. Her head banged onto the floor too.”
“Brenda ... I didn’t do that, I mean, that’s likely not the full story. Maybe, this so-called ferocious kitty was only trying to escape. Living in an animal shelter is very tough.”
“Zoe, you’re hurting my feelings! You disagree with me!”
Oh, gosh, I inadvertently hurt her feelings. And that’s not all. Brenda was teary-eyed.
“Wait, you know something, Brenda, actually you’re right. Any cat that brutally assaults two ‘innocent’ animal shelter workers is a maniac.”
“Zoe, you’re so sweet. C’mon, eat another peanut.”
Brenda and I conversed until 1:00 A.M. But that was it. Although I really liked her, I had to move on. But not before I made certain that my tracks were covered.
“Brenda, if you pretend that we’d never ever met, I’ll pretend love you, how about that?”
“Zoe, I pretend love you too! You’re the sweetest cat in the whole world!”
I embraced Brenda and then gave her a big kiss on each cheek. She looked puzzled, but content.
After saying our goodbyes, I continued trekking towards downtown Montreal.
While walking on Cote des Neiges Street it didn’t take long for someone to offer me a ride.
A young man of twenty or so, dark-haired and blue-eyed pulled his dark Mazda onto the curb just in front of me.
“Hey, kitty, do you want a lift?”
Initially, I was repulsed and apprehensive about even responding to the young man. His breath was engulfed in Vodka and orange juice, otherwise known as a Screw Driver.
But I was desperate for a lift; in need for a place to stay and to have guaranteed meals and clean water. Being on the move on a busy street wasn’t going to do it. So, I accepted his offer.
“Sir, I just want to make sure that you’re not a weirdo, okay.
Are you a cat hater? Will you try to attack me if I enter your Mazda? Are you heading towards the downtown area? Will you ask me too many questions about myself? Will you ask me for payment after you drop me off? Do you have dead bodies or dead animals hidden in your Mazda? Do you have any contraband or weapons hidden in your Mazda?”
“Kitty I answer no on all counts.”
As soon as the young man finished his statement he stuck his head out the window and then proceeded to puke his brains out.
After puking all the contents in his stomach the young man pointed his left index finger at me then resumed talking.
“Kitty, I’m sorry, I made a mistake. I answer in the affirmative for one of your questions. I’m going to downtown Montreal and I certainly know how tough it is to be a cat, walking all lone on a busy street in the wee hours of the night.
Kitty, if you can guarantee me good company, I’ll take you to the downtown core.”
I leaped through the window opening and then sat cuddly in the passenger’s seat, but not before I securely fastened my seatbelt. Drunk drivers are dangerous drivers.
The young man put his gear shift into Drive and then continued on his path.
Just a short while later the young man to begin to weep. I couldn’t understand what the problem was. Sure, he was a bit wasted off his rocks and he’d just puked his brains out. But men in general don’t cry because of that.
“Mister, what’s going on here? I didn’t say or do anything to hurt your feelings, did I?”
“No, kitty, let me formally introduce myself please.
“My name is Vlad Zakula and I was born in Rumania,