I think we’d forgotten what a privilege it is to have the cats. After all, they’re just there, doing catty things. Bob went missing this weekend, and made us realise just how much our boys mean to us.
We realised at about 11 on Friday night that the back door had been left ajar – and that there was only one cat getting in the way while we tried to chat to our friend. Bugger. The evening instantly vanished while we trotted round the neighbourhood, peering into bushes, calling Bob’s name and making the food noise (we have them trained to come when we make the food noise – it comes in mighty handy. There’s got to be some advantage to Devon Rexes being controlled entirely by their stomachs). Nothing.
The problem with having indoor cats is they are totally ill equipped to the outside world. Our contract with their breeder says that we won’t let them outside, so they have no experience of the smells and noises they might come across. They don’t even have ‘their’ outside territory scent marked, so I’m assuming they can’t find their way back by smell.
We gave up and went to bed at 1.30. We couldn’t get to sleep at all, even though we knew that we were highly unlikely to find him if we’d carried on looking. I gave up at 4, on the off chance he’d made his way back after an evening of chasing dust and chewing grass, but there was still no sign. I cried myself to sleep.
The next morning we were a bit stumped as to what to do. We made a nest in the back garden, with some water and some old human clothes. We even brushed Jay (the hairiest non-furry cat that ever existed) so we could put some clumps of cat hair out there too. We did another walk round the area, then settled into the garden so that we were about. Of course, nothing. We cried and cried when we gave Jay his breakfast – he automatically went to his side of the bowl, even though Bob wasn’t there to get in the way.
Neither of us felt much like eating, but we dragged ourselves to the supermarket to get some bits and pieces. It hurt when we picked up the cat food and litter we needed to buy – did we really need to buy in such quantities?
I’m glad it was so nice this weekend. Sitting round in the garden, doing nothing, doesn’t hurt so much when it’s 30 degrees and gorgeous. We’d call every so often, and sometimes we thought we heard a funny squeaky miaow, but nothing that we could pin down or track.
After a day spent entirely on hold, we decided to get an early night so we could get up again at 3. Half an hour after we’d locked up, there was a tremendous banging at the front door. Got there to see various (very excited) neighbours. “Yours is the funny looking cat, isn’t it? I think it’s in the front gardens. We heard you calling for it last night, so we knew it was yours.” We charged out to start looking again – completely forgetting that we couldn’t actually see and weren’t dressed. Some things don’t matter.
Well, except they do. Gave up after about four seconds and went and got dressed again, and put on my glasses, which gave me a slight sight advantage. Crawled round the neighbour’s front garden until I heard Donald, our next door neighbour and street busybody, sounding all excited. He appeared round the side of the house, brandishing Bob, who didn’t even look remotely bothered at all the fuss he’d caused.
He was making very small, squeaky miaows, so I think it was him I’d been hearing. Apart from that, he looked perfectly fine. We let him into the house and he snarfed down so much kibble he was rather attractively sick later on. We didn’t care, we were just glad to have him back.
What a long post. I don’t think I’ve cried so much in one day before, ever. Not even when I was teenage and the whole world was out to get me. It really hammered home how lucky we are to be able to care for something else – they’re entirely reliant on us taking good care of them, and we get an awful lot back from them in payment. The house just seemed so terribly empty without Bob breaking something, somewhere. I hope he had a good time while he was out. Like Sputnik said, I hope it was just that he was feline adventurous.