Lost

We had a terrible scare with the kitty.

It was all Satan’s fault, of course, although he continues to disavow any responsibility.

See, the kitty had been settling in fairly well to his new surroundings spending much of his time out front on our balconies (also where his food, water and litter are located, so go figure).

Last Thursday, Satan decided to bust out the hose and water the zillions of plants on the balconies. Unfortunately, the kitty (who I erroneously called “Willow” in my other entry, his name is really Tigger), was out on the balcony as well and as those of you familiar with cats know: cat plus water equals badness. Kitty became so agitated that he actually leapt from the (second story) balcony and was lost.

Thereafter ensued much disruptive searching about the neighborhood. As in:

SATAN
(across the street calling to kitty near midnight Friday night)
KITTY!

ME
(coming out the front door of our house)
Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty!

SATAN
KITTY!

ME
Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty!

SATAN
KITTY!

ME
(crossing the street to join forces with Satan)
Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty!

SATAN
(Pauses. Looks at me.)
What the hell are you doing?

ME
Gee, I’ll give you three guesses and the….

SATAN
YOU’RE IN A NIGHTGOWN WITH NO SHOES ON.

ME
Yah?

SATAN
KITTY!

ME
Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty…

And so on. I sent an e-mail with a picture of Tigger and word of our plight to our neighborhood association group at which time we started receiving word of all kinds of “Tigger” spottings, none of which actually turned out to be Tigger.

We eventually stirred up every cat in the neighborhood, stray and otherwise over the course of the two-day and night search.

Thankfully, Tigger was found in the pre-dawn hours of Saturday when a sleepless Satan wandered outside, called out from the balcony, and heart a faint, answering, “Meow!”

Tigger was huddled under a parked car on the street in front of our house and was probably so hungry that he finally actually allowed himself to be captured by a relieved Satan.

The cat spent the twelve hours immediately following his return asleep in an exhausted furry heap on the bed in the guest room (which he considers his own) and is now back to splitting his time between the guest room and the balcony.

We haven’t watered the plants since.