She wins. Shirley, la tonta, is not the dumb cat. She is smarter than the both of us put together and that's saying a lot, because SH is pretty smart. We banish her to the basement when she gets too annoying (which is almost all the time), but she has figured out a way to continue to pester us. She has learned how to get into -- not just onto -- the heating/return ducts. I don't know how she is doing it. I took a stool and a flashlight into the basement this morning and checked the ducting, but can't see any holes. I did see a lot of dust and other stuff that I don't want to know what it is, but I didn't see any holes. SH will have to figure it out. He's the guy. That's what men do. I clean, cook, shop, do laundry, garden, put out the trash and cut the grass. SH gets rid of the dead rats, pulls the hair from the shower drain, and cleans the unidentified gross stuff from the top of the ducts. That's man stuff.
Anyhow. SH had just returned from a trip to Dallas late last night. His flight had been delayed for hours and he hadn't eaten since lunch and he was hungry and tired and he just wanted to relax. We were sitting in bed talking, minding our own business. Shirley was in the basement where we had put her because she was being a pain in the neck, as usual. All of a sudden, we heard her meowing right next to us.
RIGHT NEXT TO US. How could that be?
It could because she was behind the grate in the bedroom wall. Which is accessible only via the ducting. On the inside. Laverne jumped off the bed and started playing with Shirley. ("Maybe Shirley needs me!")
I jumped out of bed and grabbed my camera, which of course drove Shirley away. "Get the food!" I said. "That's mean!" SH replied. "I don't care," I answered. SH got the food container and shook it, which brought Shirley back into view immediately. It also made Laverne start to meow. "I do this all the time to get Shirley out of the kitchen window so I can put her in the basement at night," I told SH. "That is so mean!" SH said. I shrugged. "I do what works. I'm all about results."
Once I got the photos, SH started to worry about the implications of Shirley being in the ducts. "What if she gets injured? What if there's something sharp in there?"
"She'll heal," I said. "And then she'll learn not to go in there. But what if she poops or throws up in there? We'll never be able to clean it out and the stench will be unbearable. I think we should get rid of these cats immediately."