Percy tales: Escape was always his plan

"Let ... me ... out!"

As a cat who was found abandoned outdoors, Percy could never stay inside too long. The first six months he lived with me coincided with a brutal winter. 

"Can I smuggle out in this?"

As spring hit Columbus, Percy hit the screens. I came home from work to see a screen forced open and a cat staring at me as I came up the front walk. The crack was too small to escape the second-floor window, but Percy’s message was unmistakable. 

Fast-forward to Nashville. Open windows satisfied him initially. In West Nashville he kept to the house until a fateful day when I came home for lunch and again found a screen popped open. I had left the storm window open too wide, and he took advantage. The window was eight feet off the ground. 

Even on the hottest day

I had no clue where he went. Before I searched, I had to drop a few items inside the house. As my key hit the door, a pathetic meow emanated from under a porch chair. The fearless explorer had no way to get back to his escape window, its ledge eight feet above the grass. He trotted in – then immediately began meowing urgently to go back out. 

The yard on Delaware had a limited fence and I allowed him supervised visits outside. One night he flung himself off the porch in an attempt to catch fireflies. The house had a secret weapon to coerce him inside – major truck traffic at the intersection of Delaware and 51st Avenue. Anytime an 18-wheeler rounded the corner, he bolted for the door and outdoor time ended. 

The grass is always greener

Due to me working two jobs and a living in an Inglewood neighborhood with wide open yards, Percy got to roam frequently. In summer I would let him out around 5 a.m. then back inside for breakfast around 9. The downside was his ability to work the doorknob until the front and back doors opened. If I forgot to lock the door, Percy didn't. He would still go out on triple-digit days, hiding under my car when the tree shade stopped providing relief.

"It's not fair!"

Following a dog attack, he weathered more than two years indoors, minus some ambitious but failed attempts to turn him into a harness-wearing outdoor cat. Percy never wore a collar, and he had no love for the harness. 

Percy only escaped Crosswood twice, first when leaping into a tree in the neighboring yard, and I collected him quickly. Two days before Christmas, visiting children left a fence gate open. A few hours later, he came wandering back as if nothing happened. Of course he tried to flee when caught. 

 As a reward for five years on Crosswood, I let him roam the front yards in the month before we moved. He met my neighbor's chihuahua and caused no commotion. He pooped and peed freely, finally able to put his scent on the green expanse where other cats passed. Of course he begged to come back and immediately go back out. By age 13, it was his hallmark.

When moving to Colorado Springs, a fenced yard was a necessity. I wanted Percy to continue to go outside, but within my control. At 12, he was a senior cat, even his outdoor desire refused to fade. He could go out freely while I worked. Sometimes in good weather, he spent 18-20 hours outside. 

We live close to a stream, a known wildlife corridor that gives fauna ways to cross under the highways. I have only seen mule deer, but don’t doubt that coyotes and bobcats also take advantage. A mountain lion passing would be rare but I have seen sightings reported further east Percy never realized that he could not contend with those animals if he escape the yard. That never stopped him from trying. He stayed close during his first days in Colorado. 

Moving cats is always somewhat traumatic, and all his familiar scents were 1,200 miles away. A few days passed before he grew comfortable roaming the new space. It only took him a year of probing the fence to find its weakness and escape. I stepped into the yard and realized he was nowhere to be found. I checked the house again. Nothing. So I opened the front door. He sniffed and loitered along the path between the duplex units. When he spotted, he turned to run but I scooped him up and brought him in. I figured he lucked out and squeezed through a space in the fences.

That thought went away the night before a short vacation to the Texas Panhandle. I packed and prepared to wind down when I realized the yard had been quiet for too long. I spent an hour calling his name, wandering the neighborhood and trying to search for places he could hide. Working with light from a head lamp, I wanted to find him and not get shot for trespassing in nearby yards. I kept coming up empty. Finally he came strutting up the alley. I bounded over and grabbing him, getting my arm clawed up for the trouble. At that moment, it was a better option than getting shot. 

That was the only time I left on a vacation and felt no sympathy for his time alone. The next morning, I filled his food and water, gave him a curt “see you Saturday” and walked out. 

While he was missing that night, I found his escape hatch. The fenceboards had screws in three spots. On three boards behind a tree stump, there were no lower screws. When pulled, the board bottoms easily popped out several inches. An inquisitive cat could squeeze through. My friend tightened the screws and I put some flower pots in front of the escape hatch. 

His secret out, he never made a run from the yard again. He would try to bolt through the front door during the summer. I think he was wearing down through the fall months, and it was enough to have his thatch of green for hiding and snoozing. After all, the wildlife had begun to come to him. 

If anything, Percy observed a Rorschach policy with regard to the yard – he wasn’t trapped with you, you were trapped with him. In his last year, mice, rabbits and one baby squirrel found that out the yard way (the squirrel survived, the others didn’t).

When people visited last summer, he took his spot among the chairs or on a slat of cardboard near the patio table. I always appreciated his social nature – some cats hide when unfamiliar people come into their space. Percy liked his yard and his people. I know that much. 

I also knew that if the gate stayed open too long, Percy would take a crack at widening his world.The yard was his, but it was never enough.