What are we going to do about this cat?

We have tried trapping the cat with an actual small animal cage trap baited with salmon and ribs (this particular cat's fancy). Repeatedly. The food is consumed and the trap tripped and no cat in site. Deep breath. Closer observation of the abysmal-failure-of-a-trap reveals that this cat is much smarter and more resourceful than is helpful or desired. He/she is apparently batting the food out through the bars and dining while outside of the confines of our we-want-to-be-your-kitty-diner trap.

Time to try something else.

Yesterday morning, David opened the garage door donned safety goggles and crawled under his truck. Using a flashlight and an air compressor, he searched the underside of the truck for the I-am-now-gray-just-like-the-underside-of-the-truck colored kitten. Seeing nothing, but convinced that the feline was in there somewhere, he sprayed compressed air into all of the crevasses and potential hiding places and, hearing nothing, left the cat to emerge and run free. We left the garage door open quite some time. Hopeful that the cat took off for more desirable surroundings and after another visual inspection, David cautiously drove his truck to the front of the house. Another period of waiting and off he went to work, sure that the kitten had ventured out and joined the rest of his/her cat family.

A day at the office, a run down the freeway to pick up our replacement for our doesn't-clean-worth-a-cockroach-head-and-I-haven't-even-rolled-a-watermelon-on-the-top-rack-yet dishwasher. Another run across two freeways to unload the new dishwasher at home and back to the office. To sit. In a parking lot surrounded by a field, a lake and lots of greenery. And not much traffic. Just calmly sitting. For hours. And hours. And hours.

David parks in the newly cat-free garage and starts to install the fabulous new appliance. (I am not home or would be drooling over the thought of having a dishwasher that actually, get this, cleans the dishes. I know. The madness of it all. That's what I am all about.) Needing tools, he heads for the garage and WHAT? The kitten is shaky, staggering and clearly frightened and IN THE GARAGE! At the sight of David he dashes up in the underside of the truck. Again. Sigh.

We don't understand. Why is living under a truck, high speeds on freeways, bumpy roads, appliance stores, long waits under a dirty, exhaust smelling truck in a nicely landscaped parking lot and compressed air a more appealing option than, well, anything?

David stared in amazement, put a bowl of water out, figuring I-like-an-adrenaline-rush kitty really needed a drink and went inside to install the dishwasher.

And what are we going to do with this cat?