Stella went missing for 18 hours -- 2:00 p.m. Monday to 8:00 a.m. Tuesday. She uncharacteristically went outside during the daylight hours when I left to run errands Monday afternoon. No sign of her when I returned. No sign at dinnertime. No sign at bedtime. No sign Tuesday morning when Sophie returned from her nightly prowl. My common sense told me that yet another of my feline friends had ended up splattered on the road, or carried off by coyotes. Surprisingly, the strongest emotion was aggravation that I had just spent $70 on her at the Vet last week for an ear infection. Arghh!
As I was drinking my coffee and scanning the landscape it hit me. I had gotten some things out of the garage Monday before I ran errands. Could she possibly have slipped in there and gotten trapped? Affirmative.
Poor kitty. It was hot yesterday, and even hotter in that garage.
Now, I know she didn't go 18 hours without needing to potty. But I haven't gotten the courage yet to go back in there to inspect. If I wait long enough, it'll disintegrate, right? She's getting back at me by refusing to cover her deposits in the litter box now.
But she's not wandering too far away from me, whether in the house or outdoors.
There are more mice to catch in her future. Happy ending.
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