Houdini's Story, Chapter 2

In which Houdini is finally caught

Previously: Houdini the feral lumberyard kitty escaped from a traditional humane trap, forcing me to think of another way to catch him

There is another kind of trap known as a drop trap, which is often used to catch the more stubborn and wily feral cats. It's basically a large wooden box held up by a prop attached to a string - you bait the trap with something yummy, and when your quarry slips under the box, you pull the string and the box falls over the cat. I'm sure you've seen this done with a cardboard box, a twig, and a string in the classic cartoons. Happily, the group who coordinated the TNVR of the lumberyard cats had a drop trap available. 

An "Alley Cat Allies" collapsible drop trap. Note the PVC prop with plenty of cord on a spool.

One side of the trap features a sliding door. I really just like this picture for its artistic value. Nothing like shooting right into the sun for dramatic flair. ;)

After giving Houdini plenty of time to forget (or forgive) our previous encounter, I borrowed the equipment and watched a video of a drop trap in use. As usual, there was not a lot of guidance; these types of things are best learnt by doing. I wasn't worried, though I was anxious to get the job done. Finally, on a cold night in early December, I set the trap up on a level surface near the feeding station and baited it with tuna. I sat on a flight of stairs about five feet away, where I could watch the trap through the railing.

Houdini showed up at around five o'clock, right on schedule. Intrigued by the strange device, he approached it with his usual caution, getting closer and closer, sniffing all around it. He tip-toed beneath the box to check out the tuna, probably thinking to himself, "There's something fishy going on here." (Ha ha!) I almost pulled the string, but hesitated. He hadn't settled down to eat, and he wasn't 100% under the box. When he quickly exited just a few seconds later, I mentally kicked myself, feeling I would not get another chance. But though he was skittish, he was HUNGRY, so he circled back around. That tuna did smell good, too good to pass up... While he was making up his mind, I was wishing he would hurry up so I could go home and eat my own dinner. The cold had penetrated all the way to my bones, and it was getting dark. But my long-suffering was rewarded when finally, finally Houdini settled down at the plate, squarely under the box. With not an ounce of hesitation this time, I yanked the string.

The box fell.

Houdini freaked out. He jumped and thrashed, trying to throw the cage off. I dashed over to hold it down and struggled to cover the trap with a sheet. Drop trapping is definitely a job for two people, I realized, as I finally got the trap covered but had no one to hold it down while I transferred him. Fortunately, the cover had done its job of soothing Houdini, so I was able to take a moment to settle myself. I decided to make do with what was at hand, and simply pulled a couple deck boards from the nearest lumber bin and laid them over the top. Their weight was sufficient to secure the trap. After that, transferring him to a standard trap was a piece of cake: just line up the openings, slide open the doors, and he dashed right in, thinking he was getting away when in fact he was getting into a smaller trap.

I was grinning like a buffoon the whole time I worked, overwhelmingly proud of myself, and just plain relieved to have finally caught the elusive Houdini. I couldn't wait to share the good news with the people who were supporting my efforts.

Within days, Houdini was neutered, vaccinated, and ear-tipped, along with two other males that had joined the colony in the preceding months. When it was time to return Houdini, he of course raced out of the trap, fearful and frantic, probably ecstatic to be alive. But just a few yards away from me, he came to a dead halt, turned back toward me and sniffed the air, reassuring himself that he was indeed home. Then, with all the majesty of a king, he sat right down and tucked his tail around himself as if to say, "See? Told you I wasn't going anywhere."

A happy Houdini soaking up some winter sun. Photo taken February 25, 2015, exactly one week before the fish hook incident.