More escape plans

Next door is a very posh Persian. The length and glossiness of his fur puts William's to shame. His pedigree is longer than my tail even if he's not very bright up top. William, who I think is jealous, claims he is stupid and that his face wears a perpetual sneer. I had a look at it. I mean it's all snubbed up and it may interfere with his breathing, but actually he looks just a normal sort of feline chap apart from that and the fur. I asked him if he could make a diversion just at the moment that Gill the Cattery opens our cage - give us a chance to slip out. He said he would but he was being collected within the hour. And so it turned out. It made me feel almost ill with misery to see him in his human's arms.
Still, nil deperandum. Plan C (or is it D? or even E?) is to gnaw through the wire. I have paced right round to see if I could see a weak spot. No such luck. Did about ten minutes gnawing and my teeth hurt so much that I decided to move to Plan D ( or E or even F). An escape tunnel. Mice use them all the time. The best tunnel would be sized-up rodent tunnel but there are no mice at all here. Not a whisker of one or the tiniest flick of a mouse tail. No rats either. So I tried scratching, like one does in the litter tray, but the concrete just hurt my paws and wore my nails down to the quick. Tunnelling is for rodents only.
Plan F ( or G or H). Make a pair of wings and fly out. Birds do it all the time and we can actually see them from here. They fly in and out of the courtyard where there is a bird table. If I could get to them, I could tear off their feathers and stick them on my shoulders. But could I fly out? I lay on my back to see if I could see any weakness in the roof and wire. Nothing at all visible. And no feathers, either. So I turned to Plan G (or H or I) - feigning illness. William suggested I simply stop eating. Of course I would do so like a shot, only I think he will just eat my share and that won't help at all. I suggested he stop eating but he wasn't keen on it. He said, and it was rather hurtful, that he thought I would just eat his share. In the end I persuaded him to lie on his back and breathe heavily as if he was poorly, when Gill the Cattery came in, while I tried to sneak out.
He did but she tickled his tummy and he bit her. Again. End of Plan G (or H or I).