Wednesday, March 08, 2006
This sure isn't in my job description.AM interrupted a meeting today in a panic. A cat was stuck in the wall and could she cut the wall open to get her out?
Ummm....excuse me? I realize shelter chaos is a reality in our crazy world, but this sounded really out there.
I followed her to the place and although I won't bore you with the details (or things we didn't do right that landed us in this situation), yes, in fact, there was a cat stuck in the wall. But we couldn't tell exactly where she was. Which is kind of important if you want to get her out. She got there from a crawl space under a sink.
So I said, "hand me the flash light, I'm going in." AM and RE thought I was slightly nuts, which I suppose I was, but I put on a gown and shimmied under the sink. It was a tight fit, to say the least, and I was trying not to think of the bugs, spiders and other critters that might be annoyed at my presence. I looked up the 6-inch opening that led into the wall and there she was. Wedged tightly in. Just out of my reach. I explain to the others where she is and start my retreat.
But I get stuck. Getting out wasn't as easy as getting in.
There I am, under a sink, in the dark, just as stuck as the poor cat. I could have easily panicked, but that would have made matters worse, so I do my best contortionist impression and try to turn around. Let me remind you, this crawl space ain't big. And my derriere is. My shoulder gets stuck. As does my foot.
A few minutes later, AM was pulling me out, rolling her eyes and laughing the whole way.
RE starts to pull the plywood wall back, the cat got nervous, ran down into the crawl space and I nabbed her. A happy ending to a strange story. Although the news of the Shelter Director crawling under the sink spread throughout the shelter, no one got pictures so I can deny the whole thing.
And the whole time I was stuck under the sink, I was thinking, man, this sure isn't in my job description.