Remodeling has its moments.


Remodeling has its moments

Remodeling has it’s moments.

Memorable little moments like the time the cat got into the framing and didn’t show up for din din.

Picture Ferdinand, a coal black bundle of erstwhile cool who turned a saunter into a performance of cat nobility.

Ferdinand never missed dinner, but on this day as the tidbits can was opened enveloping the job site in an odorous miasma of tuna parts, an event that ensured Ferdinand would pick up the pace on his way to the food bowl, he was nowhere to be seen. A shock to Deborah, our customer and Ferdinand’s mistress. Already Deborah was fearing the worst.

Deborah is an earth mother cat lover straw hat gardening herb farming no nonsense liberal voting Unitarian vegan with a broad shouldered get out of my way I’m busy got stuff to do men are useless I know what’s up attitude. Damn, damn, damn!

“I’ve never known “Ferdy” to miss a meal” she says, I wonder where he is?” As experienced remodelers we already knew we were being considered as “Persons of interest” if not outright suspects in this missing kitty case. Guilty unless proven innocent and even then getting a suspicious scowl because things like this never happen until were on the job. Against my better judgment I began to speak. “Maybe he got scared from all the noise” I said, and then offered to help find the cat. We looked in all the areas in the house a cat might go, then we went to the yard, then Deborah and I got into my pickup truck, Deborah sad and forlorn and I wondering what my next move would be.

Up and down we went tools rattling around in the back of the truck with Deborah cooing Ferdinand, Ferdinand, come to Mommy and all the while I’m picturing the guys on the site laughing like jackals, glad they are not the boss when it comes to things like this.

Its getting to be around quitting time now so we head back to the job without the cat. The guys have swept up and things are quiet when I hear a faint meow, “That’s Ferdy” Deborah announces in a hopeful tone. Then it dawns on me, the cat is in the wall somewhere. This begins the science of tracking a meow and pinpointing the location of Ferdinand. After a few minutes of tapping the wall in what I consider a likely place for the cat Ferdy goes silent, Oh no, did he stop breathing? A moment later a loud muffled meow makes us zero in on the exact location and Ferdy sensing rescue starts up again. I punch a hole in the top of the wall and proceed to tear out pieces if drywall with my hands going lower in bits and pieces until there he is, upset and dusty but in fine shape. I remove Ferdy and hand him to his owner and the relief on her face lets me know Ferdy is loved and forgiven, I on the other hand am now a suspected cat hater, who else would cover a wall in a cat lovers home without checking all the cavities.

I ended up explaining that the cat got trapped by walking through the floor joist space and slid into the wall cavity on his own power, and well, stuff happens.

Ferdinand composed himself and got a special treat, a fresh can of seafood medley, I got to go home and tomorrows another day.

Paul Lesieur


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