I stepped out the back door to water the garden and Bluebell, our new cat, walked out with me. I reached for her and she skittered away on her long spidery legs. She KNOWS she is not allowed outside. I slid the screen door almost closed so the other cats couldn’t get out and it jumped the track and landed on my head with a crash. I will spare you the rest of the sordid details. Suffice it to say I ended up on my knees under a Mediterranean palm with long thorns in three of my fingers, a lump on my head from the screen door and Bluebell was GONE!
Rudy was not home. The neighbors and I searched and searched and it got darker and darker and… no Bluebell.
Rudy came home to a house full of neighbors and an upset wife. My husband is a calm man. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “She’s a smart little cat. She’ll show up when she’s hungry.” So we left to eat dinner. We were worried and just a little down. And then, in the park just up the street, I saw a cat!
“Rudy,” I yelled, “is that Bluebell? It is! It’s her.”
Rudy stopped the truck and approached her. She came right to him and he brought her to the truck. I rolled the window down and he passed her in! That cat sunk three claws into my right leg and I yelled! She flew around the cab of that truck like a crazed animal, yowling and clawing.
“Rudy,” I screamed, “don’t open the door! She will tear you up!”
But, my husband is a calm man. He opened the door, reached in, tucked Bluebell under his right arm and got in the truck. Rudy drove home holding her with nary a word. I was nursing my bleeding leg. We put her on the floor in the living room and watched as George and Winnie, the other cats approached, stiff legged and muttering under their breath. Suddenly I realized what we had done!
“Rudy,” I yelled, “that’s not Bluebell! Get her out of here quick! Get her out before George and Winnie get hurt!”
Calmly, Rudy picked up the “not Bluebell” cat and took her away. Whew! What had we done?
At dinner we talked about the “catnapping” and how we would probably laugh about it “someday” when Bluebell was home and safe.
We returned from dinner, I opened the back door and called, “Bluebell!” She came flying from God knows where, crying as if to say, “Well, it’s about time! I have been waiting for my dinner.” She hesitated at the door, I reached for her and she backed up just out of reach. Rudy reached out calmly and pushed her little rear end in the door and slid it closed.
Bluebell has not gone near the door since. Rudy and I laugh every time we pass the park where we nabbed someone else’s cat and we wonder what the poor thing thought about being “catnapped.”
