Happy Endings

We have a large wooden playset in our back yard. We don't have a fence, and we live on the corner, so it's pretty much open to the world, and I've told one of our neighbors across the street who has a small daughter (and a baby boy on the way any day now) that she's more than welcome to use it anytime. I mean, playsets are for playing, and they're really nice people, so why not? At first she was a little shy about it, but lately I've come across them several times when I've pulled up, and it's been nice having them by.

Anyhoo, today they were there when I came home from getting the kids from school, and as we got to talking, I remembered to tell her that if she saw our cat, to let us know, because it had been almost a week and we were getting desperate. Her eyes got big, and she said that a few days before one of our other neighbors had mentioned to her that she had heard a cat crying in yet another neighbor's band/shed/workshop behind their houses. The two of them had gone to look, and it was a small, grey cat with a shiny metal piece on the collar. I nearly fainted - she had described Sasha.

We went running over (well, she waddled - she IS due literally any day and the poor girl looks like she swallowed a beach ball), and as we went she said that it had been several days, and she didn't know if the cat would be there still. When we got there, we were able to press against one door while simultaneously pulling against the other one (they are barn-style doors that slide), and through the crack I called, 'Sasha! Kitty Mao!' Not two seconds later, there she was!!!!!!! I almost started crying. I couldn't believe it!!!!! There she was!

(Now, I don't know why she was still in there if a neighbor had heard her crying a few days earlier, and frankly, I don't care. They're all really, really nice people, so if someone forgot to mention a crying cat in someone else's garage, well, I suppose things happen, and maybe I wouldn't have thought to mention it to the garage's owner, either. Well, OK, maybe I would have, but only because I'm ridiculously attached to animals and OCD. Still, I'm so grateful that I can't possibly be mad.)

Unfortunately, we couldn't get the door open, because it was padlocked, but since it was already 4pm, we decided to just wait. There was quite a crowd, with Josie, Patrick, and I, the pregnant Jen and her 2yo Isabella, neighbor #2 Kathleen and her son, Matt, and another neighbor that noticed us all out there, Nancy. Kathleen went inside and got us some cat food, which Josie put into her hand a little at a time and fed to Sasha through a small space under the door, and Nancy brought out a tupperware lid that we could slide under with water. Sasha actually ate out of Josie's hand, which shows how hungry the poor thing was. Poor Patrick burst into tears because he was so excited to have found the cat, and also because we couldn't get her out. He really is a sweet, sweet little boy. After I calmed him down, I left for a moment to call DH and tell him the exciting news, and he said that if the guy who owned the garage wasn't back before he got home, he was going to bust open the lock and get Josie her cat. (Is it wrong that I am thrilled and swoony over my husband threatening to demolish property over a cat?)

Unfortunately again, while I was gone, the garage owner, Frank, came home and opened the garage, only to have Sasha disappear in the meantime. They didn't think she had come out, but we couldn't find her inside, either. By then, Josie had had enough and dissolved into tears because her cat wouldn't come to her. I reminded her that poor Sasha had been locked in the dark for almost a week, and that it was like us being trapped in a cave, alone. She was obviously afraid of all the commotion, the strangers, and probably blinded by the light. Finally, the owner said that he would leave a door open just in case, and we exchanged phone numbers before the three of us walked back to the house.

I waited for awhile on the porch, and paced around the house, fearful that she had run away again, but I also had a feeling that 1) she was still in that garage and 2) I needed to go over there alone to get her. So, I sat Patrick in front of the TV, told Josie to stay put, and went back over. Sure enough, there was NOT a door left open, and there was my little kitty staring at me through the crack in the door again! I went up to the house and knocked on the door, and Frank came out with a flashlight. We went in through a smaller door in the back of the shed, and though she tried to hide again, I managed to catch the little squirm and carry her home, freaked out as she was.

And here she is, along with a very, very happy little Josie Girl:


Look at that smile. :)

After a well-deserved meal, a long drink, and a good rub with a kitty wipe to get the grime off of her, guess what was first on Sasha Cat's list of things to do? Play with her feather-on-a-stick? Be brushed? Climb on her overpriced kitty condo?

No, no, no.

She wanted to go outside.

And my answer to that was, um, NO, I think not. Ungrateful little furball. But we do love her so.