Escape Artist Cat

So D. and I were going to sleep the other night when I had to get up to use the bathroom. On the way there I noticed Anthony was not at the foot of the bed as he sometimes is. So I checked by the bathroom door and realized he was not there either, which is unusual because if he's not in bed he's usually prowling outside our door.

I use the bathroom and start really looking for the cat. When I've checked his favorite spots (the big black arm chair, the striped sofa, the litter box, etc) and he's nowhere to be seen, D. comes out and asks what I'm doing.

"I can't go to sleep until I find Anthony," I tell him, feeling a bit of anxiety seep in. So we go through the entire house. Under every bed, in every closet, cupboard and appliance. We searched EVERYTHING. Clearly our big, fat gray kitty cat had slipped out the door when we weren't looking.

I grabbed a flashlight and went out back to the fenced in back yard to check for hiding kitties. There wasn't a single animal out there. I shined the light over the yard once, twice, three times just to make sure. No Anthony.

So we went out front and began searching in the bushes, under the cars, nothing. D. went to the back yard with me again and still no luck. By now I was getting alarmed, but still stayed pretty calm. I mean, Anthony is a big, fat male with all of his teeth and claws in good condition. He a) doesn't like to move all that fast and b) can defend himself if need be.

Finally we realize he must be off the property and begin walking our tiny street and shining our flashlight under all the cars. We spot two neighbor cats, one of whom is under a car. We're about to move on to the next car when I see an extra pair of white paws sticking out from under the same car.

"Wait, D., look over there," I say and point to the extra paws which has been joined by an extra white nose. Sure enough, as D.'s flashlight moves over to the car, Anthony slithers out from his hiding place. I was so relieved to see his stupid little blue collar and little white feet! I swooped in and grabbed him. He didn't even put up much of a fight as we carried him back to the house.

Now normally I would say "all's well that ends well" and for the most part it did. But now every time we try to go to sleep at night, Anthony spends several minutes crying at the front door as if he's hoping we will let him out to see his little friends again. Keep trying cat, it's not going to happen.