I was getting ready to paint my studio/office. I was walking through the dining room on my way to the laundry room then on to the garage to gather supplies when I spotted Hugo under the dining room table. He had a chipmunk hanging out of his mouth. I quickly closed the dining room door behind me and grabbed Hugo to take him out through the garage. We didn't get far before Hugo squirmed out of my grasp while at the same time the chipmunk stopped playing dead, dropped out of the cat's mouth and made a mad dash for the laundry room. I once again grabbed Hugo, threw him out of the dining room and closed the door behind him so that he couldn't "help" me re-catch the catch of the day. I quickly turned so that I didn't lose track of the chipmunk but I was too late. No munk.
I closed the door to the laundry room so that the chipmunk couldn't get back into the house and went to get a flashlight. Hugo was lounging in the front hallway looking pleased with himself. I returned to the laundry room to begin the Great Chipmunk Hunt. Forty-five minutes later (it's a really small room with lots of nooks and crannies) I admitted defeat. I opened the laundry room door to the garage and opened the garage door to the outside, hoping that the chipmunk would see the light and head for the great outdoors. By this time, Ray had wandered in and wanted to know what I was doing. I had the bright idea that maybe Ray could track down the critter so I went to get his leash and led him to the last spot that I had seen the little varmint. I tapped the rug with my finger indicating where Ray should start. He sniffed interestedly for a second then led me through the dog gate into the laundry room, sniffing first at the furnace, then at the covered litterboxes. I looked inside (just in case) but there was nothing. Ray had lost interest in tracking the munk with the heady scent of cat crunchies (litter covered... you know...) hanging in the air. I led him out of the laundry room and turned him loose. I went to get my painting stuff and left the doors ajar for the chipmunk to escape.
Two hours later, I headed downstairs to fetch more painting supplies. Hugo was in the dining room staking out the tiny wine refrigerator (not, as my friend Joanne suggested, picking out a nice merlot that goes with chipmunk). I once again threw Hugo out of the room and went to fetch my munk herding supplies (I have years of experience as a munk herder):
- a cardboard map tube
- a yardstick
- the flashlight
By this time, Ray had realized something was going on behind that closed door and he desperately needed to be in on it. He just KNEW he was missing all the fun, so he started yelling. When that didn't work he switched to vigorous digging, trying to tunnel his way into the dining room. I was sweating and swearing profusely and tried not to think of the wet edge drying on the walls upstairs.
Supermunk jumped up onto one of the dining room chairs that was against the wall under a window. It had all of the chair pads stacked on top of it. Supermunk scrambled up the stack of pads and sat looking at the light streaming in. A lightbulb went off over my head. I opened the window, Supermunk jumped up on the windowsill and popped outside. I opened the door to let Ray into the room. He snuffled around for a minute or two then disappointedly left the room. I went back upstairs. Hugo was lounging at the top of the stairs, laughing. I thought evilly of sacks, rocks, and rivers and returned to work.