Escape

Damn, damn, damn...

Denny ran outside in the middle of the night to get his pills out of his truck and left the door ajar behind him. He was only out about a minute but our feral girl, Grendel, is missing today. At least we haven't been able to find her in the house.

(Yes, former English majors have feral cats named "Grendel"...)

Now, there have been times in the past where we have lost track of her of a day or two, but we looked fairly extrensively this morning. It seems too much of a coincidence that she would change her usual hiding spots today, so I am afraid she got outside.

On the plus side, she is probably the one cat we have who is best equipped to handle being outside on her own--she lived for four or five years in our area before we caught her and brought her inside. But she has been inside for the last five years, the area has changed around us and other feral/abandoned cats have moved into our area (we have three regulars that we feed).

I am thinking (hoping!) that she might have second thoughts about her break for freedom. It is cold and wet outside and I am sure the shadows are full of scary things. She is a timid creature, not used to confrontation.

She had developed her own routine in the house with comfortable hidey-holes and nights out in the screened-in kitty condo, and cats are creatures of routine. So if she hasn't turned up inside the house by the time I get home tonight, we may try closing the spare room off from the rest of the house and leaving the condo door open, so she can come back inside if she is so moved. We will set the cat trap as well, but I am hoping against hope that she will want to come back to the familiar comforts of house living.

I have harped and harped on Denny about making sure the kitchen door latches when we close it. This isn't the first time it has popped open (but I am hoping it will be the last) and I knew even as I kept reminding him about it, he was tuning me out. So if something good comes from this, maybe he will finally realize I wasn't being a worry-wart every time I would remind him about latching the door. I know he feels badly about it, so I am trying to hold my tongue.

I just hope our poor old fat feral can be brought back inside with a minimum of excitement.

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