Cat in the lift
I’ve been inside working all day, so I leave the flat around 7 pm, just after sunset, and go to the lifts in my apartment building. As I walk along the corridor, I hear a faint meowing. The cat is trapped again. When he’s not lounging on the leather seats of the warm motorbikes outside, he’s often wandering up and down the building and getting himself lost. He’ll climb too many sets of stairs and, as if in a tree, get stuck up here.
I reach the landing area with the lifts and there he is, cooing, circling and looking for aid. He has creamy white fur with light brown patches like the surface of a cappuccino. I tend not to stroke him; stray cats in Thailand are said to carry various diseases.
My idea for the rescue is simple: get him into the lift, close the lift without him running out or getting stuck in the mechanism, descend, open the other set of doors on the ground floor so he’s back in the covered parking area with his pick of scooter loungers for the evening.
I go over to the lifts and press the call button, making squeaky noises with my lips – I suppose it’s the sound of a mouse or some other rodent cats enjoy chewing on. I also rub my fingers together like I have some… What might the cat think I have? Cheese?
The lift arrives and I step in, tempting him after me with the fake promise of a treat. To my surprise, he follows, slinking into the small, well-lit cubicle. I press the button to close the doors, thinking he’ll either panic and spring out through the closing gap, or suddenly think he’s trapped and go completely mental, leaping all over the walls like those videos of cats being dropped into baths. He does neither.
I press the ‘1’ button on the console for the bottom floor (the ground floor is ‘1’ here instead of ‘0’). We descend together, reaching the ground floor where the doors open. He slinks out and I go over to the doors to the outside, pressing the release button. A big gust of wind blasts into the foyer. He hesitates for a moment, then heads outside, hopping onto a recently parked scooter. He seems to know instinctively which one is the warmest.
When I used to herd my dogs into an elevator I couldn’t help but think: how do they process the fact that we walked into a box, the box closed, then when it reopened we were somewhere else. They accepted my magic powers with equanimity. The same way they accepted my almost supernatural powers as a hunter- bringing home the fruits of various kills on a regular basis-
Great art with this! And cat behavior. I am allergic to cats, husband had a large unaltered hostile white male cat named “Monster.” He peed on husband’s mattress and the phone, when he heard my voice.
Found him a perfect home. 2 actors, guy working as doorman in a building, wife officeworker no kids. A room in their apt was devoted to cats w/issues…when husband visited, cat uninterested. Happy ruling the room..