Togo Goes Cat Rescuer

Many people think that dogs don’t like cats. I, for one, love cats. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t like to chase a cat — because I would. Mainly because I have a feeling that might be a lot of fun. Momma explained that it would probably not be as much fun for the cat. 

So we don’t chase cats.

Over the course of a week, I get to see a lot of cats. The university has a feral cat program. It’s a pretty cushy deal for the cats because they get to hang around, get free food, and are encouraged to chase rodents. Having walked on campus for my entire life, I’ve been able to identify most of their feeding stations. Admittedly, I have had to do this reconnaissance work under the cloak of darkness.

If I can get Daddy to walk me at the right time, the cats are all hanging around the feeding stations and that’s when I get to see them. I wanted Daddy to show you their pictures but he thinks several of them are in some sort of witness protection program due to their past feline-onious activities. So, for their safety — and yours — we won’t show them to you. 

I know most of the cats by name. Daddy reminded me that the names I have given them are probably not their real names. But Grouchy, Orangey, the Elder, Gray 1, Gray 2, and Siamese Sister all know when I’m talking to them. I can tell by the way they pretend like I’m completely dead to them. 

This is a story about Orangey, the Younger. Last week, as I was walking through campus, I was on the lookout for all of my cat friends. But I didn’t see Orangey, the Younger . . . until I came upon this drainage grate in the sidewalk. 

I knew immediately that something was wrong and so I took a closer look.

Sure enough, there was Orangey, the Younger in the bottom of that hole. I told her not to worry and that Daddy would get her out. Daddy thought we should go for help. That’s when I saw a university police officer and I hustled Daddy over to explain the situation. The kind officer came back with us and, sure enough, he saw Orangey, the Younger sitting down there. 

But when Orangey II got one glimpse of that officer, she scooted up a drainage pipe. I think that she has problems with authority figures. That’s a shame, too, because the police officer was very nice. And even promised me that he would come back later and check on Orangey II. 

I was still worried about her. I could hardly leave that spot. Daddy finally convinced me that the officer would honor his promise. We hadn’t gone 50 feet before we saw her in the purple sage at the campus center. Orangey, the Younger stepped out just for a moment and gave me a thumbs-up. Daddy didn’t hesitate reminding me that cats don’t have thumbs and that Orangey II’s gesture might be interpreted in a number of different ways.

But Daddy doesn’t know what I know. All of those cats, especially Orangey II, know that I’ve got their back. And ever since that day, I check that grate to make sure all is well.