DOG VS

DOG VS. CAT IN A DECK MATCH

My fearless Bassett hound, Maggie, is always quick to notify me of impending danger.

Since she was a puppy, she has been quick to sound the warning cry when she would find such backyard intruders as turtles, frogs, possums or grasshoppers. And for those of you not familiar with Bassetts, I should point out that they have this deep, thundering bark that is completely contrary to their appearance. Think Louie Anderson with James Earl Jones’ voice.

So when Maggie finds something that we needed to be alerted to, she begins a steady stream of bass-heavy “WOOF” barks. And she will continue this until I come out and remove the offending beast. She will absolutely not leave her post.

So the other morning, Maggie begins sounding the warning cry at the edge of our deck. Our house has a regular deck, right off the house, and then a second, lower deck that sits right on the ground. I’m not really sure what purpose it serves, as I thought the whole purpose of a deck was to be off of the ground. When you’re on the lower deck, you are essentially standing on a very well organized pile of lumber.

So I came out to see what dangerous animal she had cornered this time. I crawled up under the top deck, and then got down on my stomach so that I could see under the other deck. As I surveyed the area, I noticed a tuft of fur sticking crouched down in the corner. Another possum, I thought. And then the pile of fear bared its teeth and hissed. I knew right away – Delilah was there.

Some of you may remember Delilah. She is the cat who was created by the dark side, and whose sole mission in life is to assault the human race. Delilah is nice to one person and one person only, and that person is me, which is the only reason she gets to stick around. She has learned that I am fond of my wife and children, so she just avoids them at all costs. Other people? Enter at your own risk. I can’t be held accountable for the cat.

Delilah is an inside cat, because it would not be fair to the neighbors to her occasionally take out one of their family members. But a door had apparently gotten left open, and she had made her way outside for the evening. (If anyone had massive livestock slaughters in the field that night, I probably owe you an apology). When I let the dogs out in the morning, Maggie immediately sensed a disturbance in the force and began her barking. Delilah responded in her usual fashion, which was to position herself in a manner that would guarantee she could slice to ribbons anyone who got near her.

So I decided that I would bring the dogs inside and let Delilah come out on her own terms. Throughout the day, I would go out and check to see if she had ventured out. Each time, I found that she was in the same place. (A friend of mine later suggested I should have turned the hose on her. Yeah, because the one thing you want to do to a vicious, angry cat is make it more angry.)

I decided that this would just have to be a stand-off. I was not going to give in to her stubborn ways, and she was going to have to come out from under the deck on her own terms.

And then plan my changed. “She could be hurt.” Ah, the sympathetic and caring voice of my wife, who will often avoid rooms that the cat is in.

“She’s fine,” I responded. “Her evil meter is still cranked up to high.”

My wife insisted that the cat could be hurt, despite the fact that she does this kind of things under beds all the time, and we never assume she’s hurt then. This is the same thing, only it’s a 20-foot wooden bed she’s under.

After a while, I decided that my wife was going to probably have me deconstruct the deck to get Delilah out, so I decided to make one less destructive method. I set a bowl of food out near the opening, figuring that she might be hungry enough to come out. I went back every 30 minutes or so, noting that the bowl had not been touched.

At about 11:30 that night, I went out, flashlight in hand, and saw some food had definitely been consumed. I scanned the light under the deck and saw no signs of the cat. At that point, I saw a flash of fur out of the corner of my eye. She was out. And she was making a beeline back under the deck. I scurried on all fours to the opening where she wsa headed, barely beating her there. And let me tell you, there is no feeling like being spread out on your stomach with a deck a few feet over your head and an angry, hissing cat in your hands.

I eventually backed my way out and managed not to get shredded. The dogs were especially happy, because they were free to go back in the yard. And my wife is happy, because he cat is back inside where it belongs, keeping her out of the rooms of her choice.