When I brought the cat over on Saturday I had set everything she needed up in my bedroom with the intent to keep her quarantined until the hub-bub of moving had died down and she could explore the new home on her own, in her special, neurotically graceful way. Lissy, you may recall, became a part of our family during the last deployment when she showed up during a nasty rainstorm. I learned via her micro chip that her previous owners had moved to Germany and abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself.
Look at that face? Does she look like she can fend for herself? Not very well. She likes her jaunts outside, but ultimately needs a pillow to snuggle on and someone to brush her long, easily tangled hair. Food is also helpful, as she is skinny as a rail and even a little starvation leaves her completely emaciated.
So Lissy had lived on our block for a few years, even longer than we had. She had two homes, and several neighborhood hidey-holes and sight-seeing spots. This was her stomping ground, and I was really very worried about moving her. I’ve heard that old saying that dogs get attached to people and cats get attached to places. She was a nervous wreck watching our house being packed up, and I was nervous wondering if she was going to go outside and hide for an extended period of time. I was even more worried that once we got to the new house she would streak out the first open door and become completely lost.
Sunday, the first full day in the new house, rolled around and I allowed Lissy to leave my room. The house was still and silent. Lissy skulked about, low to the ground, jumping at every piece of lint in her path. I left her alone to do her thing, and for the next few hours I repeatedly stumbled across her squished into random hiding spaces. Lissy was behind the kitchen aide mixer. She was hiding behind a box in my laundry room. She was dislocating her hips to squish behind the entertainment center. Paranoid little thing.
Shortly before I left for church at one, I noticed that I couldn’t find her. I wasn’t terribly worried, I just assumed she had found a new spot, and she’d turn up when I came home. Three hours later I walked in the door and she didn’t come running. Lissy is an exceptionally needy cat, so this was odd. I called for her a bit and when she never came, I began to worry.
That morning I had opened the doors twice to put out the back and front welcome mats. I remembered being pretty careful to close the doors, so I couldn’t imagine when exactly she had sneaked out, but it wasn’t impossible.
I went to dinner with friends, and when I got home, still no cat. At this point, I was beginning to get a little mad at myself wondering at what point I had so foolishly left the door unguarded. I had searched every room, closet and crevice between boxes and she was clearly not in the house. I had called out the front and back doors, to no avail, but to the great excitement of the neighborhood dogs. Mmm, fresh kitty, I heard them bark. . .sounds yummy!
My children were due to arrive in the next few minutes, so it wasn’t long before they piled into the house like circus performers, running up and down the stairs, in and out of every room and closet all the while exclaiming over the newness and awesomeness of their new home. “Where’s Lissy?” One asked me, and I had to quietly demure that I wasn’t sure, but she’d show up soon. All I could think was, “oh crap, what if she doesn’t? The kids are going to have fits.”
About ten minutes later, while the kids were still all over the place on a frenzied sugar high (their grandparents had loaded them up with cupcakes and sugar and who knows what else, and then brought them home to go through detox on my watch) I heard a meow. It was faint, but there was definite meowing.
I ran to the backdoor. No cat. Jonas ran to the front door. No cat. We ran to the kitchen, checked behind the entertainment center, opened all the closets but. . . no cat. I told the kids to be quiet so I could better hear the sound. At this point, the meowing had grown into pitiful yowling, and in the quiet I realized that it was coming from my couch.
I looked under the couch, but couldn’t see her, so I assumed she had crawled into the base of the sofa. I flipped the couch over into an L shape (the only direction I could flip it, since I had gravity on my very pregnant side). There was a small hole in the underlining of the couch, and I assumed she had crawled in through that, but she wasn’t on the bottom of the couch. She was inside the back of the couch, which was now laying on her, which explained the escalated yowling. I managed to flip the couch up again, but needed to flip it the other way to let the cat escape.
I’m six months pregnant. I can’t flip the couch the other way; it is physically not possible.
I start calling friends, but no one is home. The couch is wailing in trapped frustration at this point and the kids are in hysterics. Finally, I call my friend Patience, who I know screens her calls, so if I want her to pick up, I’m going to need to talk into the phone until she gets there. I began telling her of the current chaos unfolding at my house, and when she answers, her husband is laughing his head off in the background.
Patience came over and flipped the couch. Lissy immediately scrambled out, and I just stood their shaking my head. Stupid, stupid, freaked out kitty.
The next day, while we were unpacking, the same disappearing cat trick occurred and thankfully I thought to bang on the side of the couch before my friend Cori left that night. Yup. Back in the couch. This time I used packing tape to close the hole. The next morning I watched Lissy flatten herself under the couch and return, very miffed a few minutes later after finding her spot sealed off.
Lissy is still skulking about the house, only slightly less jittery than she began. She tried to go outside once, which I was not encouraging, but got spooked and stayed inside. I hope she keeps up that attitude for at least another week or two and contents herself with all of the lovely windows to look out of. Clearly, she is too neurotic to handle a backyard surrounded on every side by dogs, so I think inside is her best option until she settles down.
