No one EVER wants to deal with this kind of panic. Today, my boyfriend took the brunt for me, and gave me a warning.
Tommy has gotten out at least three major times. You hope for the best, but have that sinking feeling that either someone else is going to find your cat and fall in love with them, or they’ll be killed. Some people have some amazing stories like finding their cats after months, or even years, but in reality things aren’t always so heart-warming.
The first time I lost Tom was when I was living in Mesa, Arizona, in my first apartment. I lost my cat. I couldn’t figure it out so I went walking around the apartment complex hurriedly looking for him until I decided to take a break to think, and was back by my unit. The new neighbor that was moving in called down to me “Are you looking for a cat?”. -“Yeah!”. “He’s up here.”
My cat got out while I was coming back from the mail or something, and ran into their unit while they were moving in, decided to make himself at home, and was HANGING OUT ON THEIR DAUGHTER’S BED without permission.
The second time he got out was in our upstairs apartment unit in Gilbert, Arizona. He popped the window screen in the master, and hopped up and over onto the roof over our front stoop. OF ALL THINGS. TOM. Dismal ended up being able to call him over to the edge and reach out to scruff him, and haul his 18 lb lard back into the bedroom through the window.
The third time freaked me out. It was our first East Coast winter as a family, and now we live just off a major road. There was snow on the ground, and I was arguing with the Fed Ex guy, and he got out. Two cats strolled out, actually. But, we only noticed Amalie. Hours went by and it was time for the boys’ evening meal. Only problem was there was only one cat. We walked up and down several streets for an hour until I gave up and decided to wait at home with the front door open so I could see out the storm door, hoping I would see my cat walk back up. Eventually my boyfriend comes up with my cat in his arms “Open the door”.
The big blue pumador was under the neighbor’s porch, ignoring all our calls, until Dismal decided to walk into their yard and start shining the flashlight around and caught his eyes. He said he got within about 10 feet of him and just called his name, and this guy walks up to his dad.
I hope that if that Russian Blue on New Hampshire is an escape artist, that their family finds them or someone finds them that will love them, and keep them away from the traffic on that busy street.