I first knew something was wrong when I leaned down to put food in Luca’s bowl this morning. There was still food in it. My cat is a fat cat, not the kind to leave food in her bowl.
Then I realized I hadn’t seen her all morning. Luca usually wraps her substantial body around my ankles, begging for food as I walk around the house getting ready for work.
But, she’s a cat. Sometimes, she’s aloof. I started looking around the house, calling her name, shaking a container of treats. I called Lee at work. He hadn’t seen her this morning either. I turned on the electric can opener. She didn’t come running. She must’ve escaped.
Lee decided to come home to help me look for her. Luca doesn’t ever go outside. She doesn’t know about busses and cars, and the only dog she knows is one she can beat in a fight. I imagined all the horrible things that could happen to her.
As I waited, I went on the front porch and called her name, shaking the treats. She’s not the kind of cat to come when called, unless food is involved. I went back inside.
But when I shut the door, I heard her cry. I started calling for her again. Was she stuck in a closet? She cried again, and I opened the front door. There she sat, on the front porch, looking up at me. She pranced inside. I grabbed her, hugged her, called Lee’s cell to tell him she was found, then gave her a treat. She seemed unharmed and happy.
I think she must’ve gotten out last night when I came in around 8:30. Sometimes she sits near the door, and can slip out quickly when you come inside. Who knows what she did all night or where she was. At least she’s back home.