Training cats?

Maybe I need to rename the blog.

Two of the three barn cats made it to the vet for their annual check up and shots today. Yes, I have some rather well cared for barn kitties, and so far their vet bills exceed the horse's this year (knock on wood).

Why not all three? Believe me, they were all scheduled to go. I even borrowed an extra carrier from a coworker. My grand plan was to shove the boys in together in the big carrier and put the female in the other since she has been growling at both lately, including her litter-mate. I came home from lunch to find the boys lounging on the back porch and the girl hanging out on the front porch. Grab Boy One, put him in the crate, close door, yowling begins. Grab Boy Two, open carrier, and attempt to shove him in as Boy One makes his exit. It was a rather impressive feat of feline acrobatics since I had put the carrier on end so the door was on top and the cats were basically getting dropped in. My real mistake was that I was doing all of this in the horses' wash bay rather than inside the tack room or other enclosed space where escape meant they were still somewhat confined.

In all the fur-flying confusion, coupled with a few claw swipes and hissing, both boys retreated to the porch. Both were lounging again, so I went for Boy Two first, but he figured out what was happening and eluded my lunge. Grabbed Boy One without trouble, put him back in the crate, close the door fast. Retrieved The Girl from the front porch and threw her in with her brother. I tried catching Boy Two a few more times, tracking him through the hay shed and pasture but he managed to retreat into the woods. When he took off through the poison ivy I figured it was time to cut my losses and head off to the vet with the two I did have. I called the vet's office on the way to let them know a) I'm running late and b) I only have two felines in tow. The office manager asked if I would like to reschedule for a day I could bring in all three but I declined. If a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, I figured two cats in a crate were worth three on the lam.

Returning home, the two good kitties were released and I spotted the escape artist crouched in the pasture. Even after a few hours of decompression, Boy Two won't let me approach him in the pasture. I figure he will come around in time, but in the mean time I'm trying a little behavioral conditioning so the crate is not so scary when I do finally get him caught.  So I'm trying to channel my inner Jackson Galaxy (if you don't catch the reference, start watching Animal Planet on Saturday nights).  In an effort to help the cats make the connection between the crate and something good, the big crate is up on the counter in the feed room where the cats are normally fed, and Boy Two's food bowl is inside with plenty of room to eat. I know he's found it because I heard the door rattle and saw him dart back out the barn aisle earlier this evening. I'll probably have to pull the other food bowl at some point so all three cats have to eat inside, but since they generally "graze" in shifts I'm hoping it won't be much of a problem.

Fingers crossed.