Yes, that’s right. Our furry little friend has returned and resumed her city girl persona.
A country cat she never really was. Clearly you can see this by her refined lounging techniques.
Lizzie’s the transition is of course not without some drama.
Mother Teresa drove her over with all her stuff (how does a cat have that much luggage?) last Friday. We dropped her off at the new house and then went to run some errands.
A few short hours later we returned and she was nowhere to be found. We couldn’t figure it out–all the windows and doors were shut. We called and called for her, looked in every nook and cranny we knew about, and even walked around the neighborhood, just in case she did get outside.
It was a bit nerve-wracking to walk up a few houses to the busy cross street. I imagined her laying there, having been smooshed by a car. Of course she would wait for me, breathing her last breaths only upon my finding her and stroking her lifeless body.
Morbid and dramatic, I know. But this is what goes on in my head.
She was not in the street. But then Jason admitted to me that nonetheless, he was really scared we had lost her. That really upset me.
Jason doesn’t overreact or jump to conclusions about things like I do. In the past he has usually acted indifferent or exhibited mild disdain for Lizzie’s existence. But he was really sad that she might be gone for good.
So, it was quite fitting that he’s the one that found her.
Mom went out to call for her again and I sat down on the front steps, deciding to give up hope. Jason went back into the house and a few minutes later he came back hugging Lizzie very tightly. Lizzie looked annoyed.
Where was she? Well, Jason went up to the guest room and started looking around the bed again. Usually she would go underneath if she was scared in new surroundings. He felt around the covers and then lifted up the pillows. One was unusually heavy. Lizzie had wedged herself inside the pillowcase, snug as a bug in a rug.
She didn’t jump out when he picked up the pillow. She just peered out at him, her big huge pupils expressing her frustration at being found, mixed with some fear. He pulled her out and gave her a big hug.
And we were all reunited once again. We then scolded her for not coming out when we called. When we put her down she promptly went back up to the bed and into the pillowcase.
Since then she’s adapted quite well, coming out to explore and obviously to lounge. She loves the big windows and is taking in the outside world, though she won’t be venturing out there anytime soon. There is a big dog next door and last night we heard a scuffle between him and some neighborhood cats. It didn’t sound pretty.
Lastly, thank you for reading this far and for routinely putting up with hearing about my weird relationship with my pet. Some of you are even nice enough to ask me how she’s doing when you see me.
Just for being so kind, you get a prize–one last photo of Lizzie! She looks hopped up on drugs and it’s not really the most figure-flattering angle, but oh well.