Karnak Street Kats

(Names have been changed to protect the innocent and not-so innocent, me)

Although I only learned of Moriarty's adventures secondhand, I think they are worth telling. Moriarty was a black tom cat that appeared on our doorstep in pretty bad shape. I managed to get him in a carrier and take him to my veterinarian. Once Moriarty arrived at the veterinarian's, he was sedated, examined and neutered. He had several abscesses, so he was put on injectable antibiotics. After the first couple of days, he settled down. Will came in and gave him a shot every day without much problem. Moriarty did not try to escape.
On Sunday, Will came in to give him his shot. Moriarty was peacefully curled up in his cage, a black fur ball. Will opened the cage, the cat seemed unperturbed, so Will did not grab Moriarty immediately. This was what Moriarty had been waiting for. In one fluid motion, he uncoiled, leapt out of the cage and sailed past the startled Will.
Now, normally, Moriarty would soon have been a prisoner again, but not this Sunday. At one end of the room was a custom made tub designed for bathing large dogs. The tub was surrounded by a plywood outer wall. There had been some problems with the drain, and the plumber had removed the drain pipe section. Moriarty found the tub, then the drain hole and retreated into the cavity between the tub and the outer shell. He could not be reached.
Will decided that he would have to get the cat out. He did not want a wild cat prowling through the clinic. The only way to reach Moriarty was to take off the outer plywood shell of the tub. Will set to work. Soon, he had one section removed, but Moriarty remained just out of reach. Will removed another section, and Moriarty once more moved out of reach. Two hours later, the tub was exposed, but not Moriarty. He had squirmed his way into the wall where the water pipes entered the tub. He could be seen, but he was well back in the wall. When Will reached for him he hissed and gave fair warning that the docile cat of the cage had vanished.
After some thought, Will filled a large syringe with a tranquilizer. He then returned to Moriarty. Reaching toward him, he waited until the cat hissed, then squirted the tranquilizer into Moriarty's open mouth. It did not seem to phase the cat. Will repeated the process. Gradually, the tranquilizer took effect, Moriarty stopped hissing, but still could not be reached. Will got some food and left it out. A few minutes later a slightly tipsy, black cat emerged from the wall and staggered to the food. He was immediately scooped up and put in a cage. Moriarty's great escape was over.
When I picked Moriarty up a week later, all that Will said was that he had gotten out once, but no problem. It was two weeks later when I learned from Ann of that Sunday afternoon spent dismantling a tub and squirting tranquilizer into a very unhappy cat.
Moriarty would not see Will for almost two years, but when he came again, Moriarty remained true to form.
After almost a year, Moriarty started coming on more or less regular basis for food and now for petting. It was spring and his visits became more regular, and he more affectionate. I hoped that he would decide to become our yard cat at last. Then Moriarty stopped coming. Maybe someone else had adopted him. I walked around the neighborhood and saw him dozing on a porch about a block away. I talked to him, but while he looked at me, Moriarty did nothing else. I assumed that he had finally found a home.
After several weeks of absence, Moriarty showed up early one Saturday morning. I was glad to see him and opened a can of food just for him. He looked like he had lost weight. Was he being fed regularly? Maybe I had been wrong, and he hadn't been adopted. Moriarty finished eating, and came to me for attention. I reached down and petted his head. He turned to rub against my leg. I noticed a bare spot near his tail. I peered at it. There was a scab, but it didn't look bad. Moriarty turned around, and now I was looking at an open wound. I tried to see better, but Moriarty didn't like that. He danced away.
I didn't know what to do. What I had seen was almost surely an abcess that had opened up and drained. However, I knew that did not mean it would heal, the infection might be too far along. Should I try to get Moriarty into the house? What would I do with him if I did?
He needed antibiotics, and the only way to help him was to get him to the veterinarian. Moriarty had let me pet him. Would he let me pick him up?
I went into the house and got a cat carrier. I brought it out and placed it on the porch bannister. Moriarty looked interested, but not alarmed. I petted him again. Carefully, I reached down and placed one hand under his chest while I petted his neck and shoulders with the other. I lifted Moriarty. Nothing happened. I put him down and stroked him some more.
I opened the door of the carrier. I repeated the petting and stroking. Again, I slipped my hand under his chest. I picked him up. With the hand that I had been petting him I covered his eyes, then I swung Moriarty up and into the carrier.
He went in without a struggle. I quickly latched the carrier door. Just in time, because Moriarty hit the door and hissed. He rattled the door once more then retreated to the rear of the carrier. Moriarty was quiet on the way to the veterinarian's office. I hoped this was a good omen. It was not. Once inside the door of the veterinary clinic, Moriarty began to yowl. This sound was not the plaintive moan of a poor, trapped creature, but the warning cry of a very angry beast.
Will's daughter, Sara, was at the reception desk. "What have you got, Ms. White?"
"Moriarty, he's got an abscess, I think." Sara only worked part time at the clinic, she didn't know that Moriarty was not one of my regulars.
"Do you want to leave him?"
"Yes, I do," I answered. I waited as she pulled his card, then explained what I had seen.
"Okay. Anything else?"
"Just get him checked in before your father finds out I've brought him in."
Sara's eyes widened.
"This is the cat the crawled into the plumbing."
Sara nodded and grinned. "I've heard of him."
She came around the reception desk to get Moriarty.
"Be careful," I said. "He's a wild one."
There was no need for my warning, Moriarty increased the intensity of his yowling and when Sara picked up the carrier, let out a truly nasty hiss.
"I see," she said. "We'll call you when he has been examined."
As soon as she left, so did I. I really didn't want to be around when Will discovered Moriarty.
Two hours later, at home, the phone rang. Sara was on the line. Will had examined Moriarty. He had an abscess and needed a course of antibiotics.
"Do you want to give them to him or have us do it?" Sara's voice had a strange tone as she asked.
I thought that was the funniest question I had heard in a long time. I couldn't stop from laughing. "Me, give antibiotics to Moriarty?" I pictured my hands dripping blood, my blood. "No, I'll let Will do it."
I could hear laughter in the background at the clinic. Someone there remembered Moriarty.
"Okay," Sara said.
"I'll call Monday and check on him."
"That'll be fine, Ms. White. Good-by"
"Good-by."
Monday, I called, Moriarty was doing fine, but needed to stay. Meanwhile, I suspected that Marian had developed an ear infection, so I made an appointment for her for that afternoon.
At three o'clock, I was at the clinic and in one of the examining rooms with Marian. She had an ear infection. Will cleaned out both ears, then put in some ointment and gave me some to take home.
I put Marian back in her carrier. "How's Moriarty doing?" I asked.
Will gave me a funny grin and said, "Fine, I'll bring him out for you to see."
A few minutes later, he returned with Moriarty who was still not a happy cat. Will had him clutched in a tight grip by the scruff of his neck, and I could tell the arch in Moriarty's back that it was a good thing.
As Will put Moriarty on the examining table, he emitted one of those menacing yowls. Will seemed unperturbed.
"Look here," he said, holding out Moriarty's tail with his free hand.
I saw a round hole, obviously in the process of healing.
"I think a couple of more days, and he can go home."
Moriarty let loose with another scream. I couldn't tell whether it was anger or fear.
"Good. I hope he hasn't been too much trouble."
Will got that funny look on his face. "Well, the day you brought him in, I let him out in the examining room. He was a little rambunctious."
"Not too bad, I hope," I answered. No wonder Will kept a death grip on Moriarty.
"No, I closed both examining room doors before I let him out. I better get him back to his cage."
Will left with Moriarty, and I headed for the receptionist. "Will says Moriarty's doing fine."
"Yes. That's some cat, I don't even go back in the treatment room with him there."
Will came back. We chatted a minute, and then I left with Marian.
I was getting into my car when someone shouted. I looked around. It was Ann.
I waved at her. "I thought you were taking the summer off?" I said.
"I am. Starting Friday."
"Are you coming back?" Ann had indicated in an earlier conversation that she might not.
"Yes."
"Good."
We talked about her plans for the summer for a few minutes, then I asked the fateful question. "Have you seen Moriarty?"
Ann began to laugh. "Did Will tell you what happened?"
"He said Moriarty got out. Nothing else."
Ann laughed harder. "When I came in late Saturday morning the clinic really smelled."
I tried to look unconcerned. Had Moriarty sprayed the place? Cat urine had its own special aroma.
Ann continued. "Will let Moriarty out of the carrier in the examining room. That cat went wild, careening round and round. It was like a tornado hit. Broke every bottle on every shelf."
"Will didn't tell me," I said.
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. He just stood in the middle of the room saying, 'Drucilla got him in the carrier.' We couldn't figure out how you did it."
"Moriarty was very sweet when I picked him up."
Ann looked very skeptical.
"He really is gentle at home."
More skepticism. Then she said, "It was really funny when we got Sara to call you about giving the cat antibiotics. That was after he had destroyed the examining room."
I nodded. "I thought she sounded strange."
Ann grinned. "We all knew the answer to that question."
I grinned back and shook my head. What else could I do?
"You take care, and I'll see you at the end of summer."
"You too."

Two days later, I was back to pick up Moriarty. He had had his last antibiotic shot and been pronounced well enough to get his vaccinations. Will gave them to him just before I arrived. Moriarty was not a happy cat.
I didn't see Will, he was with a client. I paid my bill and left. There was no charge for breakage.
When I got home, I put Moriarty in his carrier on the porch. Mother came out to talk to him, but Moriarty was not mollified.
"Get him some food. He needs to eat before he leaves," Mother said.
"He's not going to eat. He's going to take off when I open that carrier door."
Mother could be stubborn. "Get him some food."
I nodded and soon had a can of cat food dished up. I brought it out and placed it by the carrier. Moriarty did look at it.
"He's not going to eat." I repeated.
Mother was not one to give up. "Well, he'll know it's there. Let me go in before you let him out."
After she got in the house, I opened the carrier. Moriarty scooted out just as I predicted. He glanced at the food again, then headed down the front steps. He didn't run, but he moved purposefully. I watched as he headed across the neighbor's yard without a backward glance. I figured we wouldn't see Moriarty for a long time.
I was wrong. That evening Moriarty appeared on the front steps. I went out. He came to be petted. I rubbed his head and stroked him. He purred. All was forgiven. I went in and got a can of his favorite cat food. I gave it to him. He ate it all. Usually, he left after eating, but not this evening. He returned to me for more attention. I gladly stroked and rubbed him. Finally, satisfied, he laid down on the front steps.
Moriarty now comes every evening and morning. If anything, he's more lovable than before, and he let's me pick him up to pet him. I told Will he must have given Moriarty sweetness shots.
Will just shook his head.
Another year passed with Moriarty becoming tamer. I was thinking about making him a house cat. He was getting older. As spring gave way to summer, Moriarty lost weight. At first, I thought it was the change in seasons, but he seemed to be growing less active. One day I noticed he had not moved from his spot in the yard all morning. I went over and petted him. He barely responded. I knew he was in trouble. I went in the house and got a carrier. I set it on the porch and opened it. Moriarty paid no attention. That was not a good sign. I went over, scooped him up, and put him in the carrier. He glared at me briefly, then sank back into his lethargy.
By the time I got him to Will, I knew that Moriarty was gravely ill. He just did not respond like the old Moriarty. I told the receptionist the problem, and left him to be checked. The call a few hours later was a shock, but not a surprise. Moriarty had feline infectious peritonitis. There was no cure, and it was contagious. I told Will to put Moriatry down, then I cried.

Labels: cats