If I Had My Way...
My downstairs neighbors have a cat. A kitten, really; he's about 6 months old, I think. His name is Max, he's gray and white in the approved patchy manner Ares has never mastered, and he's very interested in the Great Outdoors.
Every few days, I come in or go out and find Max wandering in the hallway. Not that there's a lot to wander; two staircases and a short hall on the second floor. I usually pick him up, knock on their door, and hand him over.
However, of late Max has been actually lurking near the outside door and making breaks for it when it's opened. This is, how you say, ungood. He's gotten by me twice, though I managed to lure him close enough to grab with my fascinating keychain both times. Today on my way in, I saw him go, and the neighbors came down after him. They shrugged and said he'd be waiting when they got back, got in their car, and drove away.
Um.
OK, one, I resent having to look out for their pet. Two, it's a shorthaired cat and the nights are getting darn cold. Three, the people on the ground floor have a large dog who might not grasp the concept that he can break the kitty trying to play with it. Four, if my cat got out at the same time, he's huge and doesn't like other cats too well. Five, it's a city! There are cars and things! Plus we're close enough to the woods that there could well be raccoons or something.
So, what do I do about this? I'm pretty sure they didn't tell the landlord, and while he manifestly allows cats I think he'd like to know about it--plus, I for one had to give an extra deposit for Ares. But it would be icky in the extreme for me to get them in trouble, especially if they then had to find a new home for the cat; I don't trust them not to just drop him off at a shelter. And he's too old to be kitten-cute, and he doesn't have spectacular looks or anything to make up for it.
Lord, why do you afflict me with idiots? Lady, can't you talk some sense into him?
Oh, and just to be slightly lighthearted, the quote for the day: "...hey, I'm pro-pagan, but sweet-Inanna-poinging-through-the-underworld-on-a-pogostick do not plaster your car in smarmy-ass declarations of your storebought witchiness. " --Kielle
Every few days, I come in or go out and find Max wandering in the hallway. Not that there's a lot to wander; two staircases and a short hall on the second floor. I usually pick him up, knock on their door, and hand him over.
However, of late Max has been actually lurking near the outside door and making breaks for it when it's opened. This is, how you say, ungood. He's gotten by me twice, though I managed to lure him close enough to grab with my fascinating keychain both times. Today on my way in, I saw him go, and the neighbors came down after him. They shrugged and said he'd be waiting when they got back, got in their car, and drove away.
Um.
OK, one, I resent having to look out for their pet. Two, it's a shorthaired cat and the nights are getting darn cold. Three, the people on the ground floor have a large dog who might not grasp the concept that he can break the kitty trying to play with it. Four, if my cat got out at the same time, he's huge and doesn't like other cats too well. Five, it's a city! There are cars and things! Plus we're close enough to the woods that there could well be raccoons or something.
So, what do I do about this? I'm pretty sure they didn't tell the landlord, and while he manifestly allows cats I think he'd like to know about it--plus, I for one had to give an extra deposit for Ares. But it would be icky in the extreme for me to get them in trouble, especially if they then had to find a new home for the cat; I don't trust them not to just drop him off at a shelter. And he's too old to be kitten-cute, and he doesn't have spectacular looks or anything to make up for it.
Lord, why do you afflict me with idiots? Lady, can't you talk some sense into him?
Oh, and just to be slightly lighthearted, the quote for the day: "...hey, I'm pro-pagan, but sweet-Inanna-poinging-through-the-underworld-on-a-pogostick do not plaster your car in smarmy-ass declarations of your storebought witchiness. " --Kielle