The Frumious Bandersnatch That Almost Nabbed My Cat

A true, lighthearted story about family, cats, and a mysterious force from the dark

One of my favorite poems is Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky” from his Through the Looking-Glass. It describes a certain strange woods in which our hero fights a fearsome mythical creature called a ‘Jabberwock.’ Here is the poem in its wonderful entirety.

Jabberwocky

By Lewis Carroll

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. “Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!” He took his vorpal sword in hand; Long time the manxome foe he sought — So rested he by the Tumtum tree And stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy. ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.

Little did I know that one of the other creatures in the poem actually exists in real life.

It was a fine summer day in the city of San Francisco with birds chirping and Kona, our cute bouncy black seven pound cat, was exploring the back porch area behind our apartment. Like many cats, Kona can jump far, fast, and accurately. In fact nearly every day, when given the chance, she would run out the back porch, over to near the ledge where we have a fire escape. She’d then leap over the whole thing, typically a jump of 7-8 feet from the floor, to the railing on the building next door. Then she’d be off exploring the ledges and other jungle-gym-like areas on that building, causing me much worry.

It’s not that I wanted to see her contained; it’s just that as her guardian, I always look out for her safety. The building contains numerous thin ledges, some machinery, and loose objects strewn about and a small slip could result in some nasty injuries. At some point there is only so much you can do, so Kona got used to making her crazy leap and exploring “her” space whenever she had the chance. She was so excited by this activity she would often meow by the backdoor to advocate for us to open it.

One day I was watching through our office window and my wife Marzi let Kona out. Unlike many a time when she just bounded to her magic leap spot and off to the building next door, on this day Kona took a few extra minutes to check out some other items on our porch. Marzi started moving a few flower pots around near the leap spot just as Kona was finishing checking out her items. But a startled Kona didn’t quite expect Marzi to be there and launched an ill- planned take-off towards the building next door.

That’s when it struck. Instead of floating through the air and on to the building next door, Kona’s flight was disrupted when a dark blackness reached out and yanked her down into the depths of the fire escape shaft! Even though I was watching it happen, I didn’t quite register it until I heard a loud pitiful mew from below.

We raced to the edge of the fire escape, but Kona’s dark fur blended into the abyss and all we could see were two yellow eyes looking up. Other than hearing her loud anguished meows, it was hard to see what her injuries might be. The only way to help quickly was to go to the bottom of the building and rescue her from the street level. I ran as fast as I could to the door of the fire escape shaft, grabbing a bath towel along the way, dreading how bad it could be while preparing myself for a nearly certain trip to the vet. As I approached the door I could hear her cries and I swung it open to see a terrified Kona pushed against the door looking up the fire escape trying to come to grips with what had happened.

I scooped her up in the towel cautiously looking for blood and broken bones. But fortunately she was undamaged, save for her wits. Whether it was a true miracle, or a cat just cashing in one of their nine lives I’ll never know. I looked around the fire escape shaft and noticed a faucet which stuck out from the wall — if she had hit it on her way down, her injuries would have been much worse.

Kona was shaking in the towel as I held her, wide-eyed and still staring back at the fire escape.

“What happened!” I asked as I held her softly.

She quivered and purred with a look that said “It reached out and grabbed me!”

“I’m so glad you didn’t get hurt,” I whispered to her, holding her more tightly in the towel.

“It got me!” The look of sheer fear on her face as she stared at the now closed fire escape door told it all. “You need to be more careful when you jump,” I replied “This one’s on you!”

She then took a moment to look squarely at me. Her gaze relayed a sense of relief, mixed with some other emotions about what she thought had really happened. I could only interpret her look as “You don’t understand. I never miss. That THING grabbed me.”

I took her upstairs and put her down on the floor. She quietly settled down to prune her fur and took a nap.

The next day I saw her with an odd expression as she lingered near the rear door. I opened it to let her outside. But she wouldn’t budge. Not that day, not the next day, not even a year later. Her days of going out the back door were over.

To this day, Kona looks wistfully out the rear door glass, dreaming about adventures on the building ledge next door, but she laments that a certain Frumious Bandersnatch is waiting in the fire escape below to catch happy-go-lucky cats leaping across the void.