Guess who finally made her escape today?
OMG I have never known such terror. I come home, drop my stuff on the floor and start eating dinner (conveniently picked up on the way) while I check my e-mail. Maggie is extraordinarily annoying. Meow meow meow. Whine whine whine. First in my lap, then behind me, then on my ankle, around and around in a circuit. I finally put the laptop down and pick her up and say, "What the f*ck? Why are you so annoying today? What do you want?" And she just stares at me with these huge green eyes, looking very intently at me like she's trying to communicate telepathically.
And then it occurs to me. I haven't seen Mitsy. So I call her. I trained them to come when I call when they were kittens (the kitten books says to, in case of fires, etc.) And they always come when I call (unless the doorbell goes off at 4 am and I run through the apartment like a tornado.) I check the kitchen, the bathroom. No Mitsy. I check my bedroom even though the door is closed and I said goodbye to her this morning in the living room. No Mitsy. I go downstairs and check the basement. (Maybe the landlords were here and let her out.) No Mitsy. By this point I'm panicked. I call the landlords. No, they weren't here.
Now I am seriously panicked. I even go downstairs and ask the trailer-park-neighbors if anyone was around or if they saw her. No. And she proceeds to tell me a story about how her cat was caught in a dryer for 5 days. Not what I needed to hear. At this point I am really crying. I come back up and start pulling the drawers out of the kitchen cabinets and looking under the couch, hoping that she isn't sick or hasn't choked on something. Still no Mitsy.
Now I can't even think and I want to hold Maggie for a minute. And I can't find her. So now I'm calling Maggie too. I'm thinking to myself, "Surely this is too weird to be happening. Candid camera? No, too cruel. There's no way that they're getting out. I just don't understand." I'm sobbing and standing in the dining room and then I see Maggie sitting on the desk. Next to the window. With the air conditioner in it. And there is a 4 inch gap between the air-conditioner-accordian-side-thingy and the side of the window.
Oh my god.
I run downstairs and into the little alley between my building and the next. I'm relieved that I don't see a little pile of fur under the window, but even more horrified that I don't. It's dark, with only the light from the streetlight, and I don't see anything but wet pavement.
And then I see the swish of a fluffy tail in the basement windowsill. And there she is. Safe. Unharmed. Perhaps even a bit triumphant. She just sits there as I scoop her up and checked her all over, sobbing and asking her if she's OK. I cry the whole way back to the front door. She jumps out of my arms to run up the stairs, straight to her food bowl and the litter box. I have no idea how long she was out there. Now that she's safe even more terrifying scenarios are running through my mind, like what if I'd left town on business today.... Horrible thoughts that will keep me up tonight, I'm sure. I can't believe she jumped from the second story window and is OK.
My heart is still pounding. Feeding her a whole handful of treats has made us both feel a little better.
And Maggie? I'll never call you annoying again, baby. I promise.