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cat

cat (Photo credit: Kenny Teo (zoompict))

The past 18 months have been full of drama.  The hits just kept coming and I felt like Rocky Balboa (in the movie where he loses).  But the past couple of months seemed almost normal.

POW!

Then the divorce papers got served and the fight bell rang again.

But much worse than being served was waking up one morning last week and realizing that one of our cats was missing.  It was the older cat and I frantically searched the house, fearing that she had died in her sleep.  I had to go to a custody-related meeting, so I told kid #2 to look for her and left.  When I got back, the cat was still nowhere to be found.  Then kid #3 let out a shriek.  One of the downstairs windows had been left open about four inches and the screen was bent and punched out.

Oh s**t.  The cat had escaped.

Our nine-year-old housecat was loose outside.  With the coyotes.  And no collar.  She’s microchipped, but fat lot of good that does right now.  There’s no feline GPS in that microchip.

Kid #3 asked, “Can’t we catch a break?”

Privately, I thought God/the Universe hated me.

The kids scoured the neighborhood on bike and foot.  I drove around looking and calling.  I checked the shelters online and went to the two most logical shelters on Saturday.  I had a complete emotional breakdown in the cattery at the county animal shelter.

Sunday afternoon, kid #3 went into the backyard to check under the bushes again, and whisper-yelled, “It’s Clementine!  You guys, she’s back!”

The cat was perched on the back fence, with the neighbors’ German shepherd barking at her.  It took some coaxing with cat treats, but I was able to grab her and get her into the house.

A house that is now locked up tighter than a maximum security prison.

She seemed fine.  Not very hungry, so I guess she found something (or someone) to eat.  She was filthy and thirsty.  I took her to the vet to be checked out and the groomer to be bathed.  I happily spent money I don’t really have, because she came back.  It seems like a miracle.  She’s ok.  And so are we.

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