Brad Laraway wrote:
 
<There she was stuck in a cabinet.  I don't know how she got out>
<of the cage yet, but the big thing is how did she get in the cabinet.>
<I have a twienty pound bag of litter in front of the door.>
 
 Yes -- they *do* teach you one thing at a time.
 The little bitches are amazing, aren't they?  Despite the dissenting yowls,
Pam Greene's right; jills are a heap more trouble than hobs.  Feistier too.
 Anyway, Brad...
  You'll have to get down on your hands and knees and look up between the
toekick (the vertical board that sits on the floor and goes up underneath the
violated cabinet, i.e. the one your toes bang into when you stand against the
counter surface) and the face frame of the cabinet, to see if the finish
carpenters put a horizontal blocking piece of wood there.  Make sure to check
the perimeter of the entire cabinet structure.  Often times there's a gap
somewhere, and it doesn't take much o' one to accept a curious jill.
  Also, most of the little buggers (male AND female) figure out the snap-shut
cabinet door hinges; they lie on their backs and crack the door open with
their front paws.  Once pushed slightly open, the varmints weasel their way
inside, but this method of entry doesn't usually trap them.  As to the cage
escape -- who knows?
  After losing a $20 poker hand I found mine with a roughed-up queen in their
hammock.
  They pled "not guilty" by gnawing on the seemingly intact, and locked, cage
door.
  That little display didn't fool *me* though.
  I protested.
  They yawned and stretched.
  My poker buddies blamed me and kept the money.
  Buena Suerte, Senor Laraway
[Posted in FML issue 1125]