Spelunking with Steve

I decided to go looking for Harry today.  Too chicken to go alone I asked my neighbor Steve if he'd help.  Within moments he appeared in our alley armed with gloves and some sort of makeshift animal control pole.  Looked a little scary to me, but he assured me that all animal catchers used something like this.  Looking the part of "Crocodile Hunter" "Cat Hunter" we began the descend.

About 10 feet into my crawl I noticed a transom.  This looked odd sitting on top of the dirt floor and not over a door.  It must have been used for circulation and to close off the dug out section of the basement from the crawlspace.  The transom can no longer be closed because there are pipes running above my head.  Damn!  This could have been used as part of a strategy for keeping Harry in certain sections of the basement.  I'll have to think of something else.

I crawled over the threshold with my flashlight in hand, preparing to see the glowing reflection of a cat's eyes.  Nothing.  I am surprised.  I can see throughout the remainder of this dirt room and all is empty except where the plumbing is.  The space by the pipes is only about a foot high and I will not be able to enter, but a cat sure could.  It's the perfect basement abyss.  Defeat comes over me almost instantaneously.  My hope of throwing a towel over Harry, wrapping him up like a burrito, and throwing him into the oversized carrier shattered.  I read that Steve Knutson (editor of American Caving Accidents) stated, "...I use the term 'spelunker' to denote someone untrained and unknowledgeable in current exploration techniques, and 'caver' for those who are."  Becoming a knowledgeable caver at this point seemed impossible, so I crawled my spelunking ass out backwards with my empty carrier and resurfaced into the daylight.