Wrong Cat, Wrong Hero
Up around Albany hill there have been a few signs for the last two weeks, color copies with pitcures of a missin cat. The cat in the pictures was black with white paws and a thin, bright red collar with a red bell and a heart charm.
"I think I've seen that cat," Joe said on a walk up the hill when we first saw the signs. "I was in the driveway and it walked past, but it didn't stick around like that weird cat did."
We walked on. I felt badly for the cat's owners, and I thought about calling the number on the sign, but what would we have said? "We saw your cat a few days ago, but we have no idea where it is now." No, that would be dumb. We didn't call, and the signs stayed up, so I assumed the cat was missing and probably gone for good.
This morning I took the recycling outside and saw a small black cat with white paws and a bright red collar with a red bell and a heart charm lingering in the bushes that border our back patio area. The missing cat! I rushed to dump the recycling and croutched down to lure the cat out of the bushes.
The cat was shy, and while it didn't run off, it did take pains to always position itself behind an obsticle like a chair or a bush. I couldn't just reach out and grab it, but I couldn't leave it outside--if I had a missing pet, I'd want anyone who found it to try their best to return it. Those sad owners were counting on me.
Eventually I coaxed the cat out by teasing it with the frayed yarns at the end of my scarf. After five minutes of scarf play, I reached out to grab the cat, who made a run for it. I did have the cat's tail, and even though I hated to do it, I kept my grip on that and was able to swoop on the cat and haul it inside to the computer room, where I shut the door to keep the cat safe until I retrieved the sign and called its owners.
The hill is not far away, but I didn't want to dilly-dally, so I drove up there and hopped out at the first lamp post where I saw one of the MISSING signs, which by now was faded and curling at the edges. I tore the sign from the post and drove off, glancing at the pitures.
The description matched exactly--red collar, red bell, heart charm--but the photos seemed a bit off, not quite like that cat shut in the coputer room back at my apartment. But who knew? I'd compare the two once I got home.
I was afraid the cat would be freaking out when I opened the door to the computer room--hiding in a secert spot or peeing on the floor, frozen in terror--but it simply stood in the center of the room, looking perplexed. It was smaller than the cat in the picture, and it had a cute white marking on its chin that the MISSING cat did not. My fantasy of reuniting the lost cat with its greatful people faded instantly, and I realized I was a deluded, paranoid wannabe hero. I lfet the front door open and left to wash the dishes so the wrongly imprisoned cat could make its getaway in privacy. I hoped its tail didn't hurt too much from me grabbing it. So that cat from the signs really is still missing, and I can't do anything about it.
"I think I've seen that cat," Joe said on a walk up the hill when we first saw the signs. "I was in the driveway and it walked past, but it didn't stick around like that weird cat did."
We walked on. I felt badly for the cat's owners, and I thought about calling the number on the sign, but what would we have said? "We saw your cat a few days ago, but we have no idea where it is now." No, that would be dumb. We didn't call, and the signs stayed up, so I assumed the cat was missing and probably gone for good.
This morning I took the recycling outside and saw a small black cat with white paws and a bright red collar with a red bell and a heart charm lingering in the bushes that border our back patio area. The missing cat! I rushed to dump the recycling and croutched down to lure the cat out of the bushes.
The cat was shy, and while it didn't run off, it did take pains to always position itself behind an obsticle like a chair or a bush. I couldn't just reach out and grab it, but I couldn't leave it outside--if I had a missing pet, I'd want anyone who found it to try their best to return it. Those sad owners were counting on me.
Eventually I coaxed the cat out by teasing it with the frayed yarns at the end of my scarf. After five minutes of scarf play, I reached out to grab the cat, who made a run for it. I did have the cat's tail, and even though I hated to do it, I kept my grip on that and was able to swoop on the cat and haul it inside to the computer room, where I shut the door to keep the cat safe until I retrieved the sign and called its owners.
The hill is not far away, but I didn't want to dilly-dally, so I drove up there and hopped out at the first lamp post where I saw one of the MISSING signs, which by now was faded and curling at the edges. I tore the sign from the post and drove off, glancing at the pitures.
The description matched exactly--red collar, red bell, heart charm--but the photos seemed a bit off, not quite like that cat shut in the coputer room back at my apartment. But who knew? I'd compare the two once I got home.
I was afraid the cat would be freaking out when I opened the door to the computer room--hiding in a secert spot or peeing on the floor, frozen in terror--but it simply stood in the center of the room, looking perplexed. It was smaller than the cat in the picture, and it had a cute white marking on its chin that the MISSING cat did not. My fantasy of reuniting the lost cat with its greatful people faded instantly, and I realized I was a deluded, paranoid wannabe hero. I lfet the front door open and left to wash the dishes so the wrongly imprisoned cat could make its getaway in privacy. I hoped its tail didn't hurt too much from me grabbing it. So that cat from the signs really is still missing, and I can't do anything about it.
posted by Lefty at 12:08 PM
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