Tuesday, February 17, 2009

wherefore art thou, cat?

We’re back from the country.  We left a day early and came back a day later so I guess by now I’ve lost all my regular readers, assuming, of course, that I had some regular readers.  Anyway, we don’t have internet access at the country house yet so while I am there I am totally cut off.


It was a good weekend.  The garden plot got hoed into rows.  I planted some african lillies and some baby-blue-eyes around the bottom of a tree.  I pruned back the roses.  I cleaned out the gutters in a step toward setting up a water collection system.  We are on city water even though we’re in the county.  The house originally had a well but then several things coincided.  The previous owners had to put in a new septic system, the new system was too close to the well so they were going to have to drill a new well further away and the city was putting in water lines and fire hydrants on the street so the previous owners opted for city water.  All fine and good except that the city charges county customers double.  Hence our desire to set up a water collection system.  That, and it is a good ecological thing to do.  If anyone knows where I can get big plastic barrels, let me know.


Monday morning came and we were getting the house tidied up and the truck loaded for the trip back to Houston.  Emma, the cat, who had been in the house at 9 AM was nowhere to be found by 10:30.  We looked in all her usual places where she snuggles up for a nap.  No cat.  Called her and called her and called her.  No cat.  This is the cat that will go outside in the little fenced part of the yard and hang out all day or up in the tree, the cat who won’t go out in the larger yard and the world beyond unless one of us is out there as well, the cat who is in and out, the one who comes (mostly) when I call her.  Two hours later and still no cat.  Call and search again.  No cat.  My searches start taking me futher afield.  No damn cat.  By 2 PM, we close the garage door and get in the truck and drive off for lunch thinking that she will come running when she hears those sounds.  No cat.  She doesn’t come in for dinner around 5 PM as is her habit.  By 7:30 PM I have decided that something bad has happened and she is not coming back.  She has never been gone this long before.  At 9:15, she strolls in the back door (which we have ajar and the outdoor light on), meows once and then starts to clean herself.  Bad cat.  So that is why we came back a day later.

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