AJSavannahs Cattery: Escape Artists Abound or Scuttling our Saturday Sleep-In

Our four available AJSavannahs F2B kittens sleep in the big nursery, upstairs on the bedroom side of the house. It was an open space when we bought the house, a low bookcase overlooked the 12' drop to the floor below. Perfect diving platform for the F1s so we immediately designed and built a glass wall to secure the area. Leaves the room open and light and allows us to see what everyone is up to. Usually a lot, as we found out Saturday morning.

The door secures with a latch on the outside. A traditional door knob didn't work, since they figured out how to open it and we never got around to changing to a locking version. Never had any issues with the old-fashioned latch before, not even our F1s bother to open it.

We're up every day by 5:30 so we decided to sleep-in Saturday morning. Sleeping in when you live with Savannahs means 9 if you're very, very lucky and Saturday was no different because apparently, Faith, Hope, Charity and Charlie had other plans for us. Especially once 6 a.m. passed and they had not been served their breakast. Or blinds opened, litter scooped, or radio turned on. Not to mention riding around the nursery on my back as I cleaned litter.

So... at 9 a.m. Saturday morning I heard a crash of what sounded like glass breaking. EVERYTHING in the house is secure, at least in the areas where our Savannahs can reach without supervision. Wakened Jason to ask if he heard it. Duh. Had to WAKEN him. He said I'd been dreaming. I insisted not. He wouldn't investigate. So I crawled over Kbutu who had her head on my pillow and was sleeping half under the covers, and out of a warm bed. Opened our bedroom door...

... to see a streaking shadow zoom up the stairs to the nursery. Followed by another streak of spots. I head halfway up the stairs and Charlie starts coming down to me, doing the front-feet-together rabbit-style descent as if he's never navigated the stairs before in his life.

Then Charity and Faith come through the lower part of the nursery door, zip down the stairs like they're pros and zoom down the 40 foot hardwood hallway to the family room. I yell for Jason because at this point, I think the glass breaking sound I heard may have been the nursery door and I'm alarmed that somone may be cut.

We streak (well, not in the '70s sense!), Jason and I rush to the top of the stairs, take a quick inventory of the nursery (we thought the cat tree may have gone over into the glass wall), no broken glass, no blood. Next step is to survey the rest of the house and round up the escapees.

No glass in the kitchen, my monitors in my office are upright, chandeliers still firmly attached to the ceilings. But the guest bathroom is a disaster! They have had an absolute blast batting things around on the counters and in the bathtub and sink. Nothing broken, no blood, no problems. Thank God.

Now for the round up: Faith comes back on her own. As does Charlie. Charity has to be chased first, a favorite game, before she'll come back. Hope is in the dining room looking out at the birds at the front of the house. We get everyone back to the nursery.

The kittens usually move their small cat tree around the room every night as they play and kick off to leap after each other. They go one direction, the cat tree goes the other. Sometimes it goes over.

They had moved their cat tree over to the door, not enough to block the door from opening, just enough to be able to easily work the latch. Am certain it was Charlie who pushed it over close to the door and Charity who opened the latch, then Faith who cracked and held the door ajar for everyone to go through. They make a great team. I know because I have to navigate past them when they gang up on me as I try and get through the door with their canned food each morning.

But the best part was how each handled the repercussions of their raid.

Hope was unapologetic, she'll head to the dining room every time to watch the wildlife and expects us to know it. Faith tucked up under Jason's neck, to beg forgiveness as only she can do. Charity immediately stretched up and proudly showed us how she had worked the latch. And Charlie tried to pretend he hadn't left the nursery til I saw him coming tentatively down the stairs as I went up. A blatant lie, because like his three cousins, his ears were pink and hot, and his paw pads were hot and we knew he had been running with the rest of them.

So we fed everyone and did our normal "How may we serve you" Savannah routine. Then all four curled up with full tummies and tired legs and were fast asleep by 10.

So much for the AJSavannahs humans sleeping in on a Saturday.

AJSavannahs Little Hunters Miss Gabriel

We named our AJSavannahs F2B kittens Faith, Hope and Charity the "Little Hunters" when Gabriel was old enough to wean and big enough to hold his own with the girls. Since he was an only child, and we supplemented Gabatta's milk with a bottle, Gabriel thought he was a human and not a Savannah cat. Which meant that he was developing quite an attitude, and why not, he IS Gabatta's! The girls took care of his attitude right away. They were like the depictions you see of early man hunting Wooly Mammoths. Small creatures surrounding a huge beast and somehow prevailing.

Thus, our names: Little Hunters sisters Faith, Hope and Charity, and Wooly Mammoth Gabriel (from our AJSavannahs F1 Gabatta and F6A Mbau).

Now that Gabriel is home, I made my third 14-hour PLUS trip to Oregon to deliver him to his cousins our F3B Ellie and F2B Jericho, DSH Tater (and humans Teresa and Jimmy, of course), but now that Gabriel is home, the (not so) Little Hunters have turned their attention to me. With help from their cousins George and Charlie of course.

I noticed the new behaviors last week, but they don't do it to Jason, so I thought it was just a quirk. Not.

This is how it goes, cleaning litterboxes for Faith, Hope, Charity, George and Charlie:

I start scooping. Charlie jumps in the box, then he dives into the bag. In the meantime, Faith leaps into the box, too, trying to distract me. George rushes in and grabs the bag, usually at the top edge. I shoo George away. Drag Charlie out of the bag and try and hold him, and the bag, in my right hand as I continue to scoop around Faith with my left.
Then Charity launches from the cat tree in the middle of the room, to the fireplace, then to my back, then onto the stereo, then on around the room. Hope joins her in the chase.
Faith jumps out of the box.

Charlie twists out of my right hand and dives back into the bag, tearing the bottom as he goes in. George sees an opportunity and grabs the top edge again, dragging the bag, and Charlie out of my reach.

Charity makes her second circuit of the room and hits my back right on cue. I give up, stand up, open the closet door and they all dash in to play with the toys I have stashed. I close the door, get a new bag, clean up the mess, and start over again.

Jason asks me why I don't just close them in the closet to start with...

Mainly because we ALL have so much fun with the new routine. As anyone who lives with a Savannah cat knows (especially an AJSavannahs early generation Savannah cat), there's just no way you can get angry with them. They're spectacularly beautiful, hugely intelligent and inquisitive, inveterate clowns, and totally bonded to their humans.

If they choose to include me in their games, then I feel honored to be considered a part of their Herd!