It was the day after Columbus Day when I noticed that our home didn’t seem right. As I was getting my kids ready for school, I wandered the house opening closet doors and checking under beds. I checked all the usual spots but I still couldn’t find her. Chula, our cat, is missing.
We believe she snuck out the night before, when we returned home from an evening out. In the transition from inside to outside, the door was left open and she snuck out. She’s only done this once before and it wasn’t for very long. But this time was different. She didn’t come back. We made flyers, put out food, and walked the neighborhood calling her name. We’ve visited the local animal shelters and alerted all the vets and cat rescues in the area. We even turned my iPod touch into a security camera to keep watch during the night. So far, there’s been one probable sighting by our mailmen and we heard cats (possibly) fighting on our front stoop. But that’s it. The food is being eaten by local cats and raccoons. The weather is turning cold and wet. We’ve run out of options and are just waiting to see if she’ll come back.
It’s maddening. Every time I walk by the front door, I look out to see if she’s there. If I can sneak home in between pastoral visits, I stop by to see if she’s sunning on the back porch. I keep hoping for a glimpse.
While this goes on, of course, life goes on as well. There are still kids to get to school, Halloween costumes to order, sermons to preach, and worship services to craft. Life doesn’t stop but it feels different since Chula isn’t there like she use to be. We’ve gone from two lovable pets to zero in a very short time. Let’s see if, by just writing this and putting it out in the atmosphere, maybe she’ll come back from her adventure tonight.