The Sammy wars... or how many times should one be trapped before one gets a hint?

Yes, that's right, some kitties are not very smart. This pains me to admit, since I love cats and find myself out-foxed by them all the time. However, outdoor kitty Sam, he of the sea-green eyes and orange tabby coat, is none too bright. (For the record, I think the black and white tuxedo cats are the brains of the species, the calicos the divas.)

And why is Sammy fitting himself so nicely into my dumb-as-a-bump-on-a-log stereotype of orange tabbys? Because he's been in the trap twice more. He looks at me so pitifully as I rescue him, Friday morning and then again Friday night. He hasn't eaten the cat food bait. Not a bit. Maybe he just wanted to be near it.

But the last experience must have resonated somewhere in that little-bitty brain, because he stayed out of the trap long enough for a very large raccoon to find accommodations inside. He did eat the bait--and proceeded to tear the old margarine tub to smithereens. But he has a new home now where wild animals are supposed to be.

I can always hope Sammy is wiser for his experiences, but I'll be checking the trap an hour after I set it from now on just in case.