I can post about this now, but yesterday I was a complete wreck. Our dear little kitty went awol. Its true. And, to make matters worse, it was my fault. I'll start at the beginning.
Mack and I have been trying to teach Phoebe how to be more independent by using the cat door we installed. She loves going outside, but will not push the door flap open with her head. So, Mack and I tape it open for her and she hops in and out and plays on the porch, but never ventures very far, and always comes back in after a few minutes just to check in and make sure we're still there.
Well yesterday morning she woke me up at 5:30. I decided this was the perfect moment for her to go exploring outside. I taped her little flap open, she dashed right out, and I went back to bed for two more hours of blissful sleep. When I woke, she was nowhere to be seen. I walked into the lounge and to my horror, the tape had come loose and the flap had shut, and the Phoebe had wandered off.
I picked up her favourite toy and went outside looking for her - nothing! Now please remember that I'm pregnant and have twelve tons of hormones coursing through my veins, and my husband is away on a business trip at the moment. I texted Mack that the cat was gone. He called and before he could even say "Hi Sweetie" I was a blubbering mess of tears and non-sensical mutterings which went a little something like this "Cat, lost, rain and snow today, (nose blowing noises), my fault, bad mother, poor Tamzin, (more nose blowing), Phoebe dead, killed the cat, puffy eyes, feral cats, joined a gang, leaving food out." Mack tried to calm me down, but the nicer he was to me the more guilty I felt that his cat was missing because of me, and the more I cried and sobbed and blubbered. I managed to get myself ready for work and kept pretty positive that she would return.
When I walked into an empty house last night and saw that Phoebe hadn't touched the bowl of food I left out for her, and then saw her cute little empty bed, I broke down in a bigger blubbering mess. Mack called right in the middle of this new breakdown (poor man)and had to listen to more mutterings. He was more concerned about me than his poor lost kitty. He kept telling me it was okay and that cats did this sort of thing and it wasn't my fault etc. We had put a tag on Phoebe with her name and Mack's phone number on it, and he was convinced that someone would call. I was more convinced that she had joined a gang of feral cats and the next time I saw her she would be sporting a cattoo and piercings.
At about 9:30 my phone rang, and Mack told me that someone in the next building had found the cat. I walked over and she was sitting outside the door of the apartment that would have been our apartment had she been in the right building. The guy told me she had been sitting there meowing the whole day. When she saw me she was so excited. It made me really happy. She hates being picked up, so I just talked to her as she followed me home. The moment I opened the front door she shot inside, and then walked into each room as if saying "yes, this is the place". She then snuggled on my lap and proceeded to clean herself for the next hour and a half. (I just love that she's as much of a clean freak as I am). Then we went to bed. She kept nuzzling me and wanting me to touch her and would put her paw on my cheek to make sure I was there. How precious.
I didn't realize how much I would miss her when she was gone. I'm really glad she's home. This morning I opened the flap to see if she wanted to go out. She gave me the dirtiest look and walked up the passage. I guess she's an indoor cat now.