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This series of posts is mostly a way for me to process the trauma of going through this. This story is number 3 in a series of 5. We return home from the animal shelter Midas , fully knowing this time that it is our responsibility to save that kitten. And we are running out of time. I start taking photos of the situation for documentation. We try the bucket-on-a-rope-on-a-mop thing again, with chorizo sausage in there as a lure.
The adult cats go wild over the smell. All eight mature cats and the one other kitten watch as we do our thing. Then, we see crumbs falling past our window down into the shaft. I go to the balcony to spot the culprit. Old hands are shaking a plastic bag empty onto a higher rooftop. A fuckton of pigeons and a random seagull fly to the roof to munch it all. Every crumb that misses the roof falls onto the cat roof or into the abyss, where our kitten is still meowing.
I become fucking mad and shout some things. She shuts the window. So I go up and down the stairs of our Airbnb building; the whole building has about 3 or 4 apartments for rent, all by the same owner. I find more mop buckets, a vacuum, and some other random stuff, but nothing that gives me reach. Then I walk down the stairs to the front door, and see a big wooden ladder stuffed behind the door we always come through. I grab it and carry it two floors up. Jonas opens the front door to me with a look of what the??
I just want to see what things look like from there. Getting the giant ladder through the building and the apartment without damaging anything is a big effort.
