Missing Cat Found

I don't have a massive apartment. It's cozy and I like it, but it's not a fantastic palatial living space.

I also have three cats. Long story why I do, but I do.

Combine those tw facts and I see my cats whenever I'm in my apartment on a pretty regular basis. At least two of them tend to sleep with me nightly, and I can name the top three hangouts for each of them.

Last night I came home from a pleasant evening of drinking and hanging out with friends and, after spending some time on Facebook, went to bed. I didn't notice that only one cat was sleeping with me on the bed.

This morning I got up and checked email and chatted a bit. Made sure the kitties had food and got myself a bit to eat, then I went back to bed. I didn't notice, again, that only one cat was hanging out with me on the bed, and that I'd only seen two all morning.

I got back up and moving around this afternoon, and it clicked: I might have a missing cat.

Sometimes they hide and act atypically, primarily when they are feeling unwell. So I was a bit concerned. I started saying "Houdini" in sort of a high-pitched tone that he responds to as I walked around my apartment, looking behind my TV and under my computer desk and under my bed and beneath the thirty-seven piles of clean clothes peppered around my living quarters.

Nothing.

Then I noticed that I'd (predictably) spooked Truman with my sudden burst of activity. Truman had been sitting on the ledge outside an open window (I had had my windows open wide for about a week, as a leftover of having pretty hot weather and no air conditioning).

And then I knew what had happened. Houdini had attempted to escape the apartment. Or at least had accidentally escaped the apartment... by jumping (falling) the 12 or so feet to the ground outside one of my open windows.

I put on some sandals. I got in the elevator and walked out of the lobby, right to underneath the most likely escape route. I let a couple of people pass before I started the "Houdini" call. I assumed (hoped) that he'd lope up through the grass and greet me... but I knew that something bad might have happened, or he might have been roughed up by local raccoons.

After the second or third call, I heard a meow back. I know my cats (at least relative to one another) and I knew it was him. Surprisingly, it was coming from the bush RIGHT below the primary suspect window.

I called him again, hoping he'd wander out. He meowed again. I called and reached in and separated the foliage and I saw wet gray hair, and I knew I'd hit feline gold.

I reached in and grabbed him and he wasn't happy. I walked through the lobby with about 17 pounds of gray fluff and super-sharp claws digging into my neck. I released him back into his natural habitat and he was immediately set upon by his brothers... he smelled different, I suppose. Sort of like Stephen Baldwin.

He gave himself a brief bath to tidy up his face. He shook off his admirers and made his way over to the food dishes, acting like a cat who hadn't had a morsel in weeks, rather than hours.

He's still got some leaves in his fur, and he's got a lot of bathing to do. His right eye looks a bit goopy and he's sort of jumpy. But he has all his fingers and toes and hopefully has learned a valuable lesson.

Also, I closed the windows a bit more...