Houdini's Story, Chapter 3

The conclusion of the fish hook saga

Previously: Last Wednesday, the elusive Houdini was found to have a fish hook stuck in his bottom lip, along with a length of fishing line and a sinker.

I spent all of Wednesday evening trying to catch Houdini with the only humane trap I had on hand. The most I got was a baleful glance. I honestly hadn't expected him to fall for it anyway, so, frozen to the bone, tired, and hungry, I admitted defeat. ...For now. I decided to try the drop trap again, since that was how I caught him before. Maybe lightning does strike the same place twice.

By Thursday afternoon, I was hoping Houdini would still be around. As I've said, he's not one of the regulars. But he was there, and the sinker was still dangling from his mouth, so my brother and I quickly set up the drop trap not far from where Houdini was sunbathing on the lumber. I baited it with half-frozen sardines (it was, once again, very cold out). Houdini was a little interested; he stuck his head under the trap but shied away. I was afraid the sardines weren't very tempting, so I added some gravy-rich canned cat food. That WAS tempting...unfortunately, it was irresistible only to Bowser, who was 'starving' as usual. I watched Houdini watch Bowser mow down all the food in the trap. At one point, Bowser bumped into the prop and the box fell down over him - he didn't like that much at all.

We persevered, refreshing the bait, even moving the trap to a new location after awhile, but Houdini didn't even come close. So the only cat we caught that night was Bowser.

The following day, I was determined. It was our last chance to get Houdini to the vet before the weekend. I'm not taking no for an answer today, I told myself. Immediately after work, I put into motion my new and improved battle plans: I had decided to put the trap right on top of the wagon where the cats normally eat. I thought that if my helper (my brother Jason) held the rope while standing at a distance, and I acted like I was feeding the cats as usual, maybe we could trick Houdini into jumping onto the wagon and under the trap. We set up the trap, and then, just as I was opening the can of tuna to bait the trap, something caught my eye: lying right next to the cats' food dish was a fishing hook, a line, and a sinker.

"Jason!" I exclaimed. "Look what I found!" Apparently the fish hook had been torn out or just fell out on its own.

The fish hook that started all the drama. I still have it - might get it framed. ;)

Needless to say, I was ecstatic. This was good news for so many reasons. One, now we wouldn't have to stress out about trying to catch Houdini in the first place. Two, I wouldn't have to deplete the emergency fund by having the vet remove the hook, which may have required pricey anesthesia. And three, I would no longer be losing sleep at night wondering if Houdini was in pain or worrying the sinker might get caught somewhere. This was truly an answer to my prayers.

"See?" I told the cats as I fed them the tuna for a celebratory supper, "God really does care about you guys as much as I do!"

Houdini seemed okay - there was no bleeding or obvious inflammation, and he was eating just fine. I decided to just keep an eye on him to watch for infection or other signs of illness, but to otherwise leave him be.

Houdini on Friday night, enjoying a celebratory supper with all his buddies. The hook had been caught on his lower lip on his right side - so your left. Ta-da! No more hook! Houdini magicked his way out yet again.

This was one of those times I wished cats could talk. It sure would be interesting to know how Houdini had found himself in that predicament. Some would speculate that it was done maliciously, maybe by some bored neighborhood kids baiting cats with bits of meat, just for something to do. I acknowledge that that is a possibility, but it seems more likely to me that he somehow picked it up on the Erie Canal, which is not too far from the lumberyard.

The famous Erie Canal, right here in scenic Gasport. Every winter, the water is drained low to prevent damage from freezing, providing a glimpse of the Erie Canal's not-so-famous dirty underbelly. There's actually a lot of junk down there, as Houdini found out.

This time of year, the water in the canal is drained down low, exposing several feet of rocky banks. I know for a fact that fishermen constantly snag hooks and break their lines while fishing the canal, so it's really not that far-fetched to surmise that perhaps Houdini hooked himself while snacking on an old dead fish. But I guess only God and Houdini will ever know the whole story.

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.