This past week we had a kitty scare (well, I did) after my hubby went down into the cellar–quite old, as this house was built in the 1870’s, as is clear from the earth and stonewalled dugout in the bowels of the house–and forgot to shut the door. Light shows through some chinks in the stone walls, worsened by last year’s earthquake. We (at least, daughter Elise and I) always take care to shut the door so our curious cats do not venture down there, and, as it turned out, two of them did.
I was at work on my laptop when I heard a funny cry. At first I thought it might be a baby, then decided it was coming from a cat, probably our Siamese tabby mix as the Siamese make those peculiar cries, although Pavel (pronounced Pabel) rarely has. I couldn’t determine where the sounds were emanating from, though. The search began in earnest and Pavel was no where to be found. And our noble, deeply affectionate, gray tabby Percy (P. Cuthbert Wiggins) was also missing. Being the more adventurous of the two, Percy had ventured outside through the larger chink in the cellar where, after frantic searching, I found him hiding under a bush beside the house. He hadn’t gone far and our two farm dogs were watching over him.
After a great deal more searching and following those strange cries, Elise finally located Pavel in the cellar beneath the old wooden bin used to store potatoes back in its day. But I rarely venture down there to store anything, far too creepy. I suspect the monster from Star Wars resides in the cellar, along with all sorts of other creatures and the bones of their victims. Some might ask why not close up the chink? I’m not entirely certain what we might be closing in. I’d rather guard the door.
*Images of Pavel taken by Elise