Watsons (not so) Great Escape

Silence greeted me this morning -no meowing cat demanding breakfast at 5:30AM. Hmm, wonderfully interesting, I thought to myself. I then proceeded to get ready for work and it wasn't until I was getting dressed it that  hit me that watson still had not made an appearance. I'm thinking she's still sleeping, and proceeded to check any and all hiding spots.

Nada. Nowhere. I lean over my balcony and check to see if Wendy's door is open- it's closed. I take a cursory glance below the balcony and don't see any furry remnants. I call her name and shake her food to no avail. I check the hallway. Nothing.  I'm thinking the only logical explanation is that she's slept over at Wendy's or has gotten inadvertently locked in there. I email neighbour Wendy, subject line: Watson's Whereabouts. I ask if they had been hanging out this morning. I leave for work and get on with my day.

Lunch time rolls around. I check my emails and there is a reply from Wendy stating that she kicked Watson out last night at about 8 and hasn't seen her since. Insert pale face followed immediately by a look up, trying not to cry face. I had a work errand to do, so I left the office, dropped some stuff off and raced home. I head to the back of the building, all the while searching for the Watsonator. I check the bushes under my area of the building and don't see anything. Crushed. I'm pretty sure she's run away from home. I design a Lost Kitten poster in my head.

I continue to search the bushes along the walkway and suddenly I see a gray and white furry blob. Insert puke face. I call out a tentative "Watson?" and hold my breath. A small little meow is her reply. A flood of relief flows through me and I tromp through the (rather prickly) bushes in my (not super long) dress. She is hunkered down against the wall looking super terrified. I kneel down and move up to her slowly as I'm scared she's going to bolt and also that she might be hurt. I kind of give her a pokey jab to see what her response will be. No cry or hiss or much of anything, so I take it as a good sign and haul her up into my arms and run into the building.

In the stairwell, she launches herself from my arms and runs into the corner. Huge scratch across my stomach- ouch. lucky i am super in love with her at his point and I do not get mad. I collect her and manage to get my condo door open before she does another flying leap away from me. Scratch number two. insert swear word.

The first thing she does is walk up to the patio door, which i promptly close in her furry little face. I shake her food bowl and she runs to it and starts chowing down. I give Watson her obligatory brushing. I pretty much only brush her while she is eating. I started this habit as I realized that while she is eating she is too busy to attack me, so the brushing is usually a painless event.

I head out the door to go back to work, quickly sending Wendy an email to let her know that Watson is OK. She lets me know that she would be happy to take her to the vet and pay any vet bills. I thank her for her very kind offer but reiterate that Watson is unhurt. I decide to let Watson once again roam the balcony, so that Wendy can see for herself that the Miss is alive and well. I heard them chatting outside, so I think Wendy is appeased.

Since her escape, the furry girl pretty much won't leave me alone. I think she realized how awesome she has it up here on the third floor with a pretty decent mom and super great surrogate neighbour mom! I think we will go cuddle in bed now.

xo. shelly & watson.
PS. Stay tuned for the unavoidable, but surely entertaining Future Adventures of Miss Watson!

Gerdan Zerid III

It just hit me like a ton of bricks... I have not blogged about Kitty's disappearance. I don't necessarily feel like I've betrayed him, quite the opposite in fact. I have been holding onto a glimmer of hope that Mr. Gerdan Zerid The Third would return to us in all his furry kitty glory. I will put the glimmer of hope into a pocket of a pair of pants I rarely wear as I feel it is time to move on.

Meowy McMeowington disappeared at the beginning of July like a chocolate cake at fat kids camp. Not a trace. The story, as I was told is as follows: One morning the Carol heard coyotes. The cat did not come when called as per usual. That is the only hard fact we have. I will be honest here. Being suspicious by nature, I questioned whether or not The Mom was conducting a cover up of Something Awful in order to save our feelings. I asked her (maybe not so politely) if she had something to tell me. She (I think I hurt her feelings) informed me she wasn't lying to me and that she didn't know the whereabouts of Kitty.

Let the search begin. In comes Sara and Amanda, aka Team Search Party. I will note here that we don't look like much of a search party, no special high tech gear and no plan to speak of. Manda, at this time, has a walking cast on her foot. Through the forest we trample. No more than seven minutes into The Search, Amanda gets stung by a bee. Lol. I don't know what to say here other than it was vaguely hilarious. She goes back to the house to lick her wounds. Sara and I continue on and stumble across what looks like a hobo's apartment. There is a pile of white stuffing that, at first glance, looks like it could be cat fur. Thank heavens it is not. We come to a gully and the search can go on no further. The forest is not a friendly place. We retreat home.

Signs go up around the neighbourhood. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CAT? Insert picture of Kitty looking at camera with large amounts of disdain here. I listed off all of his features: long shiny white coat; gray points on tail, feet, nose and ears; startling blue eyes that may appear to be cross-eyed; a harrowing meow; comes to the name Kitty. I offered a reward for his safe return of an unspecified amount. I wouldn't want to put a price on his life... although I think we all know that I'm Cheaperific so the reward would probably consist of a twenty dollar bill and perhaps a piece of gum if I had some on hand.

I know our cat was hit or miss with most people. I can see how it could be hard to love a cat whose meow mimicked the cry of a baby, but at uprorious levels. I think though, that once one got passed that he was impossible not to love. A cat smart enough to come when called, who snuggled in your crook of your arm and didn't mind being under the covers with you when it was chilly. Head butts and purrs and the occasional face lick; kitty was a good friend. He will be missed. Also, RIP Kokanee. Poor little evil dog was in a lot of pain for way too long. You will be missed (mostly by grandma).

Insert guilty face here.... I am planning on getting a kitty from the SPCA in the next couple of months. They have an influx of cats and kittens that need a home and I feel, no- I KNOW it's my civic duty to give one of those kittens a home, preferably one that's gray with white points so he will match my condo decor.