Been layin' up to catch me a tomcat for some time now but haven't caught him yet. Damned smart one. Got in one night when two females had kittens some time ago -- bejabbers they chased him all over the place and he was so flustered he couldn't find his way out -- I shoulda killed the bastard then. Since then he's been sneaking in from time to time to get the leavin's from the feed dishes in the kitchen. I'd hear a dish move, my cats would perk up their ears and it'd be him, the sneaky sob . . . so I finally got mad and rigged up some ropes, a sort of Rube Goldbergian thing in which I could pull a cord and the door would go shut and I'd have him.
Just what to do then . . . But I had an idea. I had a mustard squeeze bottle full of turpentine and if I could ever get his south end pointed toward me his north end would sure howl in agony. But the sob is too smart . . . not once has he come around since I rigged up the ropes -- twice I caught my own cat and did she look surprised as the door slammed shut while she was eating. I think he's waiting for me to get careless -- which I already have. But anyway, there's nothing for him around here anymore except food -- I sure spoiled some of his good time by having my cats spayed. From a long 1 Oct '67 letter E. L. Moore wrote to Bill Rau to help cheer him up while Mr. Rau was in hospital.
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