Weirder than a Weird Thing
Right, well to start with, we've adopted two uber gorgeous 6 month old cats from Shua, a local cat rescue place. The mostly black, partly white one with the wild-eyed expression and propensity for running up door frames is Matthew, and his teddy bear alike, very furry sister is Nashville Pussy. You can guess who named which. If you don't know Brett you can form a picture of him now, probably.
Anyway, the rescue people kindly brought them to the house on Monday night, so they could settle in while the kids were in respite for the week, they warned us all about not opening windows or letting them out for at least three weeks, we nodded obediently and promised to be good. All went well until the day after when Nashville COMPLETELY disappeared. I had answered the door twice to receive posty things but no cat was at all in evidence either time, but after my Mum and I searched this house from top to bottom at least twice, looking in every nook and cranny however ridiculous,no cute little tabby/tortoiseshell kitty appeared. So I had to concede that I must have let her out, however sure I was that I hadn't. Everyone was very kind and didn't rant at me, but I felt simultaneously guilty as hell and totally mental to think I'd let this disaster happen without noticing. Brett went out "puss, puss"ing around the neighbourhood in the freezing cold, I rang the local paper and put in a lost cat ad and began to compose the phone call to the rescue people - because odds on if anyone found Nashville she'd end up back there.
I was just creating a miserable Missing Cat notice on the computer to post on local lamp posts when the phone rang. It was the paper, telling me my credit card had been declined. I had just given an astonished squeak of outrage when Nashville appeared from behind my seat on the settee, not a mark on her and smirking hugely. I babbled this to the woman at the paper, slammed the phone down and pinched myself hugely. She was still there. The sheer relief was almost worth going through all that angst. But I still can't believe she'd wormed her way under the settee and stayed perfectly quiet the whole time we were making a massive noise looking for her. At every other occasion she's right on the scene of any happening.
I decided the powers that be were trying to tell us something. It can only be that we must use the credit card (which had no problem at all when I rang to check with the card company) to make a donation to Shua. I'd meant to do it when they dropped the cats off but it never happened with one thing and another. It's definitely going to happen now!
*fades out to Twilight Zone music*
Anyway, the rescue people kindly brought them to the house on Monday night, so they could settle in while the kids were in respite for the week, they warned us all about not opening windows or letting them out for at least three weeks, we nodded obediently and promised to be good. All went well until the day after when Nashville COMPLETELY disappeared. I had answered the door twice to receive posty things but no cat was at all in evidence either time, but after my Mum and I searched this house from top to bottom at least twice, looking in every nook and cranny however ridiculous,no cute little tabby/tortoiseshell kitty appeared. So I had to concede that I must have let her out, however sure I was that I hadn't. Everyone was very kind and didn't rant at me, but I felt simultaneously guilty as hell and totally mental to think I'd let this disaster happen without noticing. Brett went out "puss, puss"ing around the neighbourhood in the freezing cold, I rang the local paper and put in a lost cat ad and began to compose the phone call to the rescue people - because odds on if anyone found Nashville she'd end up back there.
I was just creating a miserable Missing Cat notice on the computer to post on local lamp posts when the phone rang. It was the paper, telling me my credit card had been declined. I had just given an astonished squeak of outrage when Nashville appeared from behind my seat on the settee, not a mark on her and smirking hugely. I babbled this to the woman at the paper, slammed the phone down and pinched myself hugely. She was still there. The sheer relief was almost worth going through all that angst. But I still can't believe she'd wormed her way under the settee and stayed perfectly quiet the whole time we were making a massive noise looking for her. At every other occasion she's right on the scene of any happening.
I decided the powers that be were trying to tell us something. It can only be that we must use the credit card (which had no problem at all when I rang to check with the card company) to make a donation to Shua. I'd meant to do it when they dropped the cats off but it never happened with one thing and another. It's definitely going to happen now!
*fades out to Twilight Zone music*