"The animals have no voice but ours..."

The Continuing Saga of Spike and Angel
By Nancy Gardner

Fans of Jen’s column and the weekly newspaper pet photos already know Spike and Angel. Brothers who were adopted from CVAS two years ago, and were returned to the shelter because of the economy, they are very much the bonded pair. Shelter staff wanted them to be adopted into a  loving home—to be together. Their cage sign read, “Don’t Make Us Say Goodbye.”

It took two months for the right “parents” to come along. My two longtime friends, Fran and Steve, mourned the loss of their beloved 16-year-old tabby, Keruoac, so it took awhile for them to be ready to bring a new cat into their home. Hoping the time had come, I sent them Jen’s column with Spike and Angel’s story. We met at the shelter on the day after Thanksgiving, and they were captivated by the playfulness and affection of the brothers. Their application was approved, and on Tuesday, the boys went to their new home, together as we had all hoped.

Then began one of the most traumatic weeks Fran and Steve have ever experienced.

Angel vanished after just an hour in the house. At first I assured them that cats can hide pretty creatively, but when Angel hadn’t surfaced by the next day, Steve began to think that, somehow, Angel had gotten out of the house. Knowing how careful they are with their pets, I was sure the cat was somewhere in the house, but as Steve began canvassing the neighborhood, leaving notices at houses within a four-block radius, I tried to help, driving the streets at a crawl, peering into open garages, front porches, and thick shrubbery.

(More than once it occurred to me that someone might call the borough police, reporting a strange woman looking to steal UPS packages from front porches.)

They did all the right things—notified the shelter, enlisted the help of the mailman, ran a lost ad in the paper, left Angel’s picture with neighbors. Food and water were left out both inside and outside, in the hope of luring Angel to safety. We continued to call Angel’s name in the basement, with no answering meows.

After two days of searching, they were physically and emotionally worn out.

(Meanwhile, Spike was proving to be the companion he promised to be, following his people around like a puppy.)

On Friday morning, they heard Angel in the ceiling above their finished basement.

Relief turned to terrible anxiety when they realized he couldn’t get out. I called shelter staff, who came out and heard the meows but couldn’t see Angel in the ceiling area the noise was coming from. Peering through the floorboards with a flashlight revealed nothing but empty space. Angel’s cries and the jingle of the bell on his breakaway collar were haunting, reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe’s classic, “The Cask of Amontillado.” (Remember 9^th grade English?)

Friday afternoon they began tearing out ceiling tiles. Still no Angel! That evening at dinner, a friend mentioned the fire department, and I realized we had missed a possible area of help. Saturday morning Steve called the McKinley Street Station. By this time, we had a true emergency.

Tim Ebersole came right away. He brought with him a Thermal Imaging Heatseeker, a device used to locate survivors in rescues. It took only a short time for Tim to ascertain that Angel was not in the ceiling after all, and another short time to find him trapped in a cavity of a heavy bookcase against the wall. Somehow his cries traveled upwards through the ceiling from his hollow prison.

When they got him out, he was dusty, thirsty, hungry, and very tired, but a visit to Best Friends Animal Hospital assured that he was still in good health and would recover from his trauma with a day or so of “chilling out” with his brother. (As you can see from the above photo.)

This story is worth the telling for several reasons. One is that we need more happy endings in this world. Another is the reminder that cats can get themselves into incredibly tight spaces and then not be able to get out. If this happens again, and all efforts to locate and free a cat fail, we’ll know to call the local fire station for help. Their service to the community is much more far-reaching than we knew, and they are always ready to help.

Those of us who knew what was happening agonized with the family during the days Angel was missing—we all had sleepless nights and shed some tears.

So it’s wonderful to be able to rejoice with them as well, that nobody had to say, “Goodbye.”

All of us wish a Blessed Christmas for the kitties and their new family, and especially for Tim Ebersole and his fellow fire-fighters at McKinley Street Station. Because of his willingness to help an Angel, we’ll all have cause to celebrate this year.

*****

Cumberland Valley Animal Shelter, Inc.
2325 Country Road Chambersburg, PA 17202
(P) 717- 263-5791 · (F) 717- 263-2042  cvasadmin@innernet.net

We have been providing humane services for animals in need, and assisting adoptable pets in a second chance of love and companionship at our current building, since 1995.