The day the cat ran away...

Baby J was a grand total of 24 days old the day that The Cat ran away.  It was a terrible day... the worst... the kind of day that you want to draw a great big black marker pen line through and erase from your memory forever.

Except that I'm not doing that... I'm writing about it...

I knew it was going to be a Bad Day when Techno Dad came up with my morning cuppa (what a good-un) and said "The Cat isn't in his room".  The Cat is a complete creature of habit - so much so that I swear he can tell the time as he demands his "first dinner" and "second dinner" bang on time each evening. He is always in his room waiting for breakfast, followed by morning cuddles. This was out of the ordinary.

I feel I should tell the story of The Cat first to set the scene here:

I am a "cat person" - I love them.  I have grown up around cats and I personally believe that a home is not a home without a cat.  However... when I met Techno Dad he was very firmly in the "dog camp".  He believed cats were boring and selfish.... plus he was allergic. No cat for us.

Now this was almost a deal breaker! Could I really live without a cat for my whole life?!  I decided after much soul searching that I could and that Techno Dad was probably worth the sacrifice..... however I had a sneaky plan.....

Whenever we would go and visit my parents (who still look after the Family Cat) I made sure that Techno Dad sat on the cat's favourite seat... can you condition people not to be allergic?! I secretly threw cat hair in his direction.  I gave him the "cat blanket" to snooze under.

Over a few years, very slowly, Techno Dad decided he wasn't allergic to cats... but he still didn't like them... until one day we went to a farm shop that had kittens!  They were so freakin' cute.  Techno Dad relented! He said we could get one.  So we started cuddling and....

Techno Dad came out in a rash.

I cried.

All the way home.

I debated our relationship.

I gave up on the hope of a cat.

Two years later we got married - The Best Day - a sheer 10 out of 10 wonderful day.  But even better, on our honeymoon (after several glasses of wine) he said "I don't think I'm allergic to cats after all- shall we get one?".  "But what about the Dreadful Day of the Rash?!" I slurred back... 

It turns out that Techno Dad has been thinking and mulling and decided that it was the sawdust the kittens were sat on that day that had made him rash up. Say whaaat?! Who puts kittens in sawdust anyway?!

I was over the moon.  We could get a cat!  And so we did.  We found him in a barn and he said "Take me home please".  So we did. He became part of the family - the original furry baby.

The Cat that we found in a barn. 

When we found out about Baby J I worried how the Cat would take it.  I Goggled how to prepare him.  We did all we were supposed to; playing a crying baby noise, letting him smell the new bits and pieces and gradually introducing the two on the day we brought Baby J home.  He seemed to accept Baby J and proudly sat (supervised of course) guarding the crib as he slept. 

Which made it even harder to think he had run away. Were things really that bad?

After noticing he wasn't there that morning I didn't worry too much as it was a nice day and he was probably off mouse hunting.  But as the day crept on and he missed 1...2...3... meals I started to panic.  I rang the vet.  I checked the road.  I posted a message to the neighbours to check their sheds and garages.  Nothing. 

I cried.  I wailed.  The kind of crying that leaves you red and snotty and headachy the next day. It hurt so much to think our original baby had felt the need to leave home.  I could just picture him making the executive decision that "things were not going to get any better" and packing mousey and walking out the cat flap for one last time.  Did he take one last glance back at the house or was he more of a "once you've left, you've left" kinda guy?

We ate dinner in silence.  We watched the cat flap.

Finally we decided to pull boots on over our pyjamas and go for one last look before bed.  As we left I saw the neighbours putting some bits in the garage.  But I was too red and blotchy to go and ask them if they'd seen him.

We walked.  We called. We shook his food tin.... nothing.  I accepted he had left home.  He had run away, to find a new family without a crying baby. Somewhere he wouldn't feel ousted.

We came back and took our shoes off.  I made a cup of tea.  I decided to go to bed to make the day go away.

As I got ready to go upstairs I opened the door to his room just to check one last time.

He was there! A little chirrup as he threw himself round my ankles. He ran into the kitchen to demand food... three times.

He didn't look like a cat who had decided to run away.  He purred.  He demanded fuss. He ran around our ankles trying to trip us up. He cuddled up in bed with me and sat guarding me and Baby J while he slept.

Maybe he was trapped in a garage after all. Maybe he didn't think we were terrible for bringing a newbie in to the house.  Maybe he had been trying all day to get home.

Please don't leave us Cat - you are part of our family. Stay and I promise to teach Baby J not to pull your tail.  He won't cry forever....  

Medusa Mum x