It was early Sunday the 15th that we got a call for Liz at DRC about a rescue in Terre Haute, about an hour and a half away. I checked with Tom, called her back, and we left within the hour.
We picked up "Butch" at the Terre Haute Humane Society on Sunday. He wiggled and squirreled all over the Jeep on the way home, obviously not accustomed to riding in cars. But at least he didn't get car sick.
Once home, we introduced him to Mater in the front yard for some neutral territory. Bradley, the 8 lb black cat, came up to say hello too. They all seemed to be okay, so we went to the back yard - Mater's true territory! I kept Gus (quickly renamed when he ignored the ill-fitting name of Butch) on a leash and walked him around the fence a half dozen or so times so he knew where it was okay to lift his leg and where the "walls" were. (The HS had said he was a climber and jumper and went over fences, but so far he hasn't left our sides long enough to witness that). He seemed to feel pretty much at home, but we kept the leash on as a tag line for any needed correction. There wasn't any.
We put him in Mater's old crate for the night - much to his chagrin. I believe in crate training and making a crate a happy home - not a place for disciplinary action or punishment. He was noisy, but finally seemed to settle down. But when we came downstairs Monday morning, all we could say was "Wow". After that we were speechless. All of the crate doors were still locked shut, but the crate was empty. The rug that had been under it to protect the hardwood floor was shredded. The crate was halfway across the room and the plastic crate floor several feet the other direction. And there was Gus in the kitchen eating the cat food off the counter. Clearly we have a little training to do!
Poor baby is only about 1-1/2 yrs old and is skin and bones, although he weighs about 67 lbs. He's so sweet.
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