Introduction:
I have a morning routine. Every morning, only a few minutes after waking up, I place a collar on all three cats waiting excitedly at the door. I wait a few moments to build up suspense and then I open the door. What ensues is often the most peaceful or chaotic part of my day. The cats race out like kids catching an ice cream truck. They chase all squirrels in the vicinity up trees and all birds, that were just moments ago enjoying their breakfast at the feeder. take flight in panic. Every morning I exist outside and enjoy the quiet hours while my cats roam. Every morning, that enjoyment looks different. Sometimes I can peacefully sit at the table and ponder on the priorities for the day, other times I’m chasing my cats around the yard to ensure they don’t go past our boundaries, almost always I go on a little walk with Gus as he patrols his territory.
What I am about to write is not normal to most people, but it is integrated completely into my everyday life. My three cats, Theo, Gus, and Gypsy spend a lot of time roaming outside, but in a manner that is safe for them and the environment. They do not explore willy-nilly but rather exist outside under my watchful eye. Some might call me a warden, some might call me Sauron, and others might call me for dinner. Regardless, all three cats understand the set boundaries of where they can and cannot go; they are accustomed to walking on a leash; they come (for the most part) when they are called. But it was not always like this. There was a time when history was not yet written. Through trial and error, I have learned tips and tricks that have made me an expert in herding cats; ensuring that they can do what they love (being outside) in a safe and healthy way. The following essay is a guide to cat herding: the art of letting your cats roam.
Know the Dangers:
As you are wading into the waters of cat herding, you might ask yourself, “John, wouldn’t it be a thousand times easier to just let the cats roam at their own leisure?” And I would say, yes, it really would. Counterpoint: if I didn’t do all of this shit, then what would I have to write about? The fact that letting your cat roam outdoors is neither safe for them nor the local environment is also a major driver._/(‘,’)\_. Cats are extremely destructive to the environment. They hunt squirrels, rabbits, mice, and above all else birds. I know this, because every morning when my cats are first let outside, their immediate action is to go and find some poor animal they can chase across the yard. My morning always starts out with the squeak of the screen door opening, the jingling of bells on their collars, and the tweeting of birds and barking of squirrels that have all been shaken out of a peaceful morning. Birds, specifically, are the most vulnerable to predation by cats. These pet predators might as well be known as the reaper of birds. Even with a noisy bell dangling from their collar, cats are still extremely stealthy; moving in total silence, creeping close to their victim. POW! An ambush! The chunky bird is on its way to being a meal. Sadly, Gypsy has already caught two of these flying meatballs and Theo has caught three. Right under the dogwood tree. Luckily, Alexa and I are mostly around and watching to make sure they let them go. Dead or not, it is never fun to see a captured bird traumatized like that. They have wide beating eyes and their chest heaves up and down just like a person who has only narrowly evaded death. Gypsy can sneak up on unsuspecting birds resting at the bird bath and proceeds to snatch them in a single swipe. I saw a bird caught like that one time, and all it could do to react was to release a single, brief shriek of surprise. Theo, on the other hand, decides to sit under the tree for an hour, still as a statue, watching the bird feeder, waiting to pounce. When she has her target, she leaps six feet into the air in an effort to grab it. I can only imagine what the bird sees, a tiny (well, I suppose giant to them) furry missile, flying through the air, with sharp claws and a look of deranged hunger. Theo’s success rates are dismal, and that is why she can linger freely in the front yard. Still, I would much prefer no birds caught over five birds. Only one bird has ever actually been killed by one of our cats. Theo brought down red-breasted nuthatch, a tiny lil’ guy, when Alexa’s back was turned. Free from our usual intense shouting and our frantic action, she had enough time to perform the killing bite. She shook the bird while humming at a low vibration to snap its neck. Alexa buried it under the tree. We still call Theo a murderer every now and then, but she seems to not mind the nickname.
So yeah, cats can decimate the environment. We also don’t want the environment to decimate the cats. There is a blind turn right before our house, and cars take it at alarming speeds. I always wonder if I’m going to be hit, so you can imagine my anxiety with the cats. The biggest threat to the cats, however, is from coyote. Coyote is abundant in the area. I can hear them from my house at night. I’m pretty sure they left some droppings in our front yard just the other night. I’ve seen coyote twice: once at midday, skulking along the wildlife corridor across the street from us, and once at dusk. They trotted down our street and into our neighbor’s backyard. Neither time did the cats see coyote, but coyote definitely saw them. In both instances, I quickly rushed them inside, much to their objections of me interrupting their roam. I am afraid of coyote. Plenty of signs come up in our neighborhood for missing cats; few are ever found. The feral cats usually stick around for a couple of months and then I never see them again. I prefer to lie to myself and say they were picked up by a wildlife shelter or something along those lines. Death from coyote is supposed to be painful, for coyote is both faster and stronger than cat. It is hard for cat to escape unless there is something to climb. So, it is mainly because of coyote, that I will never consider letting them roam unsupervised. Anytime Gus escapes, our number one anxious thought is: “What if coyote gets to him?”
Secure All Exit Points:
The first thing you need to do to ensure a successful cat herding regime is to control the flow of cats going inside and out. By and large, it is important to know how and where your cats can escape; be that from a cage in your front yard or a home. Many a time, we have assumed an exit point to be closed when in reality it is wide open. You drop the cats into the cage and come back 20 minutes later, only to find that no one is there and the zipper has been left wide open. By that point, a cat like Gus is long gone on an explore, thus triggering the arduous process of tracking. Sometimes, when a house exit (re: an open window) is not secured, it is difficult to even tell whether or not a cat escaped. Are they outside, or have they just disappeared into the house? One time, Alexa and I were eating dinner when a large downpour unleashed from the skies. We thought nothing of it, assuming all of our cats were warm and cozy inside, but five minutes later we heard frantic meowing at the door. Alexa opened the door and Gus came running inside soaking. We had no idea when or how he got out. Another time, we were watching TV like we sometimes do after a long day, when we heard weird scratching coming from outside of our windows. All we saw was darkness. Suddenly, there was a flash of orange and we saw two little white paws grasping onto the windowsill. Theo was desperate to get our attention. Neither of us knew when she had even gotten out. I’m not saying this issue happens often, but cats will exploit any option available to them. Knowing where a cat can exit and ensuring those points are secured is the best way to mitigate any topics mentioned throughout the rest of this essay.
Herding Thy Beast:
I don’t think there is anything that makes my cats happier than when they are roaming around our yard on a beautiful summer day. It is the best stimulation and enrichment that you can ask for, and it is why I go through the trials and tribulations that I do with this herding process. That and because they are so goddamn annoying when they don’t get to go outside. Alexa and I have a boundary that we try to keep them roaming in: our front yard and a little bit of the left side of the house. Sometimes we will tolerate them in our neighbor’s front yard too. However, any time they cross the rotting cedar fence, our boundary between the yard and road, climb up the fence that leads to the neighbor’s backyard, trot onto our neighbor’s driveway, or slink down the rocks that lead to the side of the house and into Greg’s backyard, it’s time to herd some cats.
A clearly defined boundary for the cats to roam is crucial to taming them. Believe it or not, it is quite possible to train cats. Whether they choose to obey is a different story. Gus almost never obeys. He knows perfectly well what the roaming boundaries are, but given the chance to explore, he will always make a beeline to his patrol route and other adventure opportunities. He lets you know every day that he will go with, or without, you. I’ve found it easiest to just entertain him and when he’s done guide him into the cage, which he will happily oblige (see: Duty of Patrol). Sometimes though, when we don’t want to go with him, we have to implement a three-strike rule: cross the boundary three times and it is inside or in the cage you go! It’s effective, but never that fun for any of the parties involved. Theo and gypsy are much better at staying within the boundary, but some herding is still required when they are feeling adventurous and naughty. The concept of herding is quite easy, truthfully. All you need to do is steer them in the direction that you want them to go. Just approach them from behind and they’ll dash on back into the boundary zone. If they don’t move right away, clapping, loud voices, or shaking some bushes will usually do the trick. You can try picking them up, but more than likely they’ll run away before you get a chance. Sometimes they’ll get too revved up and will continually run away from you like it’s a game. Others (Gypsy) will run away because they still don’t fully trust you. This can be extremely annoying when you just want to put them in a cage or back in the house, places they already want to go. To remedy this, you can try and channel their energy from running away from you into something else. Theo loves chasing pine cones, so often I’ll skip them across the yard for her to hunt. After a couple of throws, she is generally calm enough to let you approach her. Once you wear them out, approach them while showing no fear and grab them before they realize what’s actually happening. Then, all you need to do is place them wherever you need to. If that approach doesn’t work, prop the door open and start the undignified process of chasing them around until they finally run inside.
Constant Vigilance:
It was Bartimus Crouch Jr., known death eater and passionate teacher to Harry Potter himself, who coined the term constant vigilance. And though the context he was using this in was to warn a bunch of students about the brutality of the dark arts (of which he was so skilled), it is also applicable to this chaotic art of cat herding. Constant vigilance is necessary for any practitioner of this trade, for cats are smart and tricksters. Whenever the cats are roaming, I have to always keep an eye on them at all times. My head is perpetually on a swivel. The second Alexa or I have dropped our vigilance it is already too late, for you have lost. You might as well have been avada kedavra by the imposter mad eye Moody himself.
It is easy to forget that cat has evolved for millions of years to be a sleek, fierce, and above all, stealthy hunter. They were built to move silently. As I mentioned before, even a bell doesn’t limit them when it comes to hunting. Additionally, cat doesn’t broadcast where they go and is great at hiding. Pair all of those factors together and combine them with a personality that always wants to run away and explore, and you get a perfect recipe for an escaped prisoner.
As I mentioned before, Gus is a trickster, and there is nothing that he won’t do to allow him to explore unchaperoned. Sure, he could be bold and just fully send his escape, but he knows there is a low success rate there. He can only outrun me for so long before he gives up. His real chance at freedom is outsmarting us. Gus will bolt when our backs are turned. He will wait patiently until we’re comfortable, our guard is down, or in mid-conversation with a neighbor to dip. Or, he will simply find a hiding spot and post up there until we notice he is gone. In the confusion in the search for him, Gus will take the opportunity to sneak off elsewhere. His intelligence is my favorite thing about him, but it can be really fucking annoying to deal with sometimes. And now, slowly but surely, Theo and Gypsy have started to learn a thing or two from him as well. They are mostly content in their desire to watch and terrorize the birds in our front yard, but when the mood strikes them, they are not afraid to try and pull off an escape. The desire to roam is a natural part of cat’s behavior, so there is no good clear way to stop them from wandering off on their own, short of putting them in their cage or inside. So, say it with me, Harry Potter, CONSTANT VIGILANCE.
Duty of patrol:
For Gus, exploring beyond the boundaries of our front yard isn’t just a fun thing for him to do, it is a compulsion, a need. I hate myself for saying this, but Gus is an alpha male. This is mainly because he is the only male cat in our house, but also because he is the biggest, smartest, and strongest (though Theo is the fiercest by far). Like a lion watching over his pride, I think it is hardwired in Gus’ brain to carry out the duty of patrol. Alexa and I always like to joke that he’s on patrol when inside. On rainy days and at night, he moves from window to window in our house, looking for any wildlife that comes around. If he spots something, he is laser-focused on it and tracks its every movement. On the occasions when he is roaming around outside when he spots an “intruder” in his territory, he will bolt after the trespasser and chase them until they are long gone. He’s done this multiple times to the local feral cats, and it’s like, you’ve already won, dude, you have a home and they don’t- there is no need to kick them while they are down. But he sees it as his duty. One time, Gus even had a showdown with a raccoon, scaring it out of our yard from within the confines of his cage.
Unlike humans, cats don’t have a sense of boundaries, especially arbitrary ones like the social construct of personal property. Therefore, his territory goes beyond just our front yard. The extent of his “territory” is a long strip of road, reaching from our house at the end of the street to five houses down. He claims all of the front yards of the houses I’ve mentioned and the narrow bramble slope that is the wildlife corridor on the other side of the street. He feels the need to patrol this area multiple times a day. So, we have a dilemma. We have one alpha male with not just a sense, but a duty, to patrol and protect his boundaries; and we have another alpha male (me, if you were wondering) who won’t let the other roam freely given the inherent dangers mentioned earlier in this essay. A compromise must be made. After long negotiations, it has been decided that Alexa or I will accompany Gus on patrol. Like any compromise, no party is truly happy with the end result. Gus hates it, I totally cramp his style, but I see no better option. Two or three times throughout the day, I’ll follow him down the street to begin his patrol. We never go far, just a little way down to the edge of his territory, but Gus gets to explore and sniff and observe and mark, doing what all good cats on patrol do. Occasionally I’ll adorn him with a leash and harness to detract him from straying anywhere he shouldn’t, but most of the time it is free roaming. Sure, he’ll grumble and hiss at every tug on the leash, as I urge him to move forward or turn around, but it’s all talk to preserve his ego. At the end of the patrol, when he’s reluctantly back in the yard, he obediently walks into his cage to assume stationary guard duty. He curls up on the blanket or towel and rests his head, content that all is right in his land.
Every Cat Has Their Day:
It is as simple as the title says, every cat has their day that they escape. You can’t be perfect in your vigilance, and you certainly can’t win all of the time. A cat roaming outside is going to escape at some point. If you know this early on, it is going to be easier to accept the fact when it happens. It’s business. When they do escape, however, you are obligated to go through the arduous process of finding them. This is where you should listen carefully to save you a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. And no, I’m not exaggerating.
Tracking:
Now, just because an errant cat has escaped doesn’t mean they are gone for good. It is easy to forget that we as humans evolved as the planet’s apex predator for millennia after millennia. If we can cause a mass extinction event for over 50,000 years, I think we can track down a couple of lousy cats. Tracking is the worst part of the cat herding process, as it is both energy-intensive and time-demanding. It often happens at the most inconvenient times, right when you were planning on doing something else. But through intensive trial and error, I have learned a few things that make life easier in finding them.
The first thing that any tracker needs is equipment. A silent cat is a gone cat. I cannot tell you enough how sneaky cat is. They naturally move silently and blend into their surroundings so effectively that it is almost impossible to keep track of them unless you have directly locked eyes on them. Theo’s calico coat allows her to blend in perfectly with a ground strewn with fallen autumn leaves; Gus’ luxurious gray allows him to blend into any woody thicket or bramble; and Gypsy’s black means that she is a void in any shadow, impossible to see besides her eyes. A bell greatly helps to indicate their movements and intentions. It has taken some time, but I have been able to distinguish the slight variants of their respective bells, allowing me to know who is on the move and where. The real lifesaver, however, is the AirTag. The tag tracks their movements and will emit a sound if you are close by. Just place it on their collar and you’re golden. I can’t tell you the number of times the AirTag has saved me from a long and arduous search for Gus by giving away his location. It is essential gear for anyone in the game. However, it isn’t without flaws and it is important to know what they are. For starters, the sound from the air tag only plays at a very narrow range. I’m talking about a 10-foot radius. It is damning when the sound goes off, but it’s very hard to find that radius. Especially when that radius moves with the cat. The second flaw is that the location will only show the approximate area of where the escaped cat is. Any signal from the AirTag within the 50-yard radius shows that the cat is with you, which narrows it down less than you think. Finally, the AirTag is slow to update with information. If the location of the tag has changed, it will take 5 to 20 minutes for the app to reflect it. A lot can happen in that time span, as cats can choose to get lost in a matter of seconds (CONSTANT VIGILANCE), and it often makes the data unreliable. Despite the flaws, the AirTag is your compass, and I will take the 50-yard radius over nothing anytime.
Now that you have found that narrowed-down radius, it is time to channel the strength of your deep ancestors and let your primal tracking skills take over. The best place to start is where you last saw your cat. They can shake you in seconds but it doesn’t mean that they’re going too far. They like to take their time, meander, dilly-dally if you will. So it’s likely they are still close by. Take a look around and observe. Do you see the shaking of a bush? How about a tail flick? Don’t look for a cat, look for movement. Listen too. Listen to the sounds of squirrels who like to bark and chitter at the cats. What sounds like a mini machine gun might just be Louie the squirrel telling Gypsy to back the fuck off. The alarms of the corvid army might be going off. Jays and crows are buddies. Kin recognizes kin, and they like to GOSSIP. One bird can sound the alarm when Gus is around and then the next thing you know, half a dozen stellar jays and crows are making a riot in the trees above. We have found our escapee a couple of times because of the corvids. If it weren’t for the birds, we would have otherwise truly had no idea where to look.
Sometimes, cats have already told you where they’re going. They’re predictable and often follow the same paths. Can you guess where they’re going from the areas they were interested in past roams? Were there any places you’ve steered them away from and they seemed grumbly about? Gus has been interested in fences lately, with additional interest in the fence that separates our neighbor’s backyard from our yard. He’s just found that he can jump high enough to reach the top of the said fence (about six feet) and he feels like a king being that high up. He wants to follow the fence line further down our neighbor’s backyard and into our landlord’s backyard (which is inaccessible from this side of the house). I can’t trespass into the neighbor’s backyard, they’re already so lenient with the front yard as it is, but if he goes down there he’s able to get into all of the other yards behind us. So every time he jumps up there, I have to block him in and make him turn around. He complains whenever I do this. The next time he gets lost though, I know the first direction he’s heading. Remember, they’re not trying to run away, they’re just trying to explore.
Because they just want to explore, they rarely come when you finally find them. Unless you catch him in the “goodest of boy’s” mood, Gus will never come when you call him. In fact, he’s more likely to run in the opposite direction, in a desperate hope to not be found. Theo used to come when you called her. She’d run straight up to me and I’d reach my hand through a fence or whatever the obstacle is that is preventing me from reaching her to rub against it. From there I could just grab her by the scruff and that was that. But she hasn’t wanted to come lately. Maybe it’s because of how I just scoop her up, but she’s normally so forgiving. I think it’s because she’s getting more confident and adventurous lately. Gypsy usually comes immediately when Alexa calls her. She runs like hell away from me, though.
Because of this reluctance to come to you, you often have to go and get them. Cats may not have to respect property lines, but you do. You can’t just hop the fence into somebody’s yard (or so the normal narrative goes). You have to be stealthy about it at least, gamble that no one is home, or spend some of your neighborly goodwill and have them chalk it up to “John being silly with this cat stuff”. Sometimes you can ask out of courtesy to go in their backyard, and they’ll always say yes, but it is time-consuming and it brings them into the fold, and now they are invested in whether or not you can track down your cat and it is like performing in front of an audience that doesn’t want to be there. Let’s be honest, nobody wants that.
Earlier in the essay, I mentioned the wildlife corridor right across the street from us. There’s an apartment complex on the other side of the road from us. The backside of the apartments faces us and there is a steep grassy hill that serves as a backyard. The developing company decided to just construct a tall metal fence to distinguish the property boundaries and called it a day. Consequently, growing on the other side of the fence is a 10-foot wide slope of green space filled with ivy, blackberry, and a tangle of ornamental trees that have never been cared for. There are a handful of non-ornamental trees and I am slowly working on turning the space into a more natural habitat. Regardless of how well it is maintained, the green space sees heavy use by the local wildlife, hence why I call it a wildlife corridor. Birds, squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, other small animals, and even coyotes use this highway, And they use it frequently. I imagine it connects all the way to the nearby Twin Ponds park, but I know it at least covers the corridor that goes for five houses (stopping at the edge of Gus’ territory), through my neighbor up the hill’s backyard and through a dilapidated part of their fence, and past a tunnel of shrubs and slippery steep terrain, following along a fence line before hitting the road. Gus knows all about the corridor and loves to use it. Which means that I know all about it too. I’m hunched over getting scratched by brambles and branches, dusting away cobwebs from my face, navigating steep terrain through plenty of obstacles as I try and get to Gus. Sometimes when I’m back there I think of elephants. They too are giants in their environment, marching through the forest, making way by clearing branches and felling limbs. It was always the megafauna’s role to clear away large amounts of vegetation. Them and fire, but that would be really disastrous with this fuel inventory. And since there is no longer any more megafauna (we killed it all, duh), you must now be the megafauna. So go on, you magnificent elephant, clear that bramble and give your future self a helping hand. Celebrate when the cat has been acquired, though that may be the last thing on your mind after the whole experience.
Sometimes though, you just can’t catch your cat when they escape. Every cat has their day. You have a choice when that happens: continue searching for hours more, or give up and trust that they will be fine, returning home when they are ready. Because they will return home sooner or later. Hang out in the front yard or with the door open, they’ll let you know when they have returned.
Let Them Be Wild:
I put all of this work into herding these cats because I love them, but also because it’s really fun to see their wild side. Walks with Gus are always so intriguing because the sights and sounds that grab his attention are often unsuspecting, and by just watching him you see a wilder world open around you. Furthermore, it slows you down. Herding and tracking cat requires you to stop and take notice of the natural world around you. In an increasingly chaotic world where everything is trying to grab your time and attention, I find this to be a peaceful remedy. Watching them be wild is highly entertaining, like when they stalk and chase squirrels. It allows them to indulge in their natural instincts, and that, in my opinion, is the best kind of enrichment you can give them. I’ve seen Gypsy climb high up in trees, Theo hang from feeders in attempts to catch a bird, and Gus, ever vigilant, the proudest boy as he surveys his kingdom. All three of them were strays at some point in their life and were born with this innate wild spirit. I am glad that I can keep some of it alive. So there you have, it is now time for the apprentice to become master. Go forth and herd those goddamn cats.