So I was out at a friend's place last night when I get a call from her crying saying that she can't find Mishka.
You see, we have two cats in our house. The newer one, Prince, is aggressively friendly and a complete and total pain in the ass. He's also historically been a runner. Whenever he gets out side, he's off. It's been pure luck/misfortune that we have always managed to get him back into the house. Mishka, on the other hand, is pretty laid back and nice. She has also been Welsh Girl's cat for about 10 years now. Mishka came with her from L-Town to Austin eight years ago (coincidentally, that's about how long its been since Mishka last got out for any length of time greater than 30 minutes). Mishka has always been about. Until last night, that is. For the record, no, I don't think the cat slipped out when I left, but the last time I saw her was 15 minutes before I left. But she got out somehow. This is that cat I absolutely did NOT want to run away.
So last night we spent hours looking for her. Of course, finding a cat at night is almost impossible so we sat up until we couldn't any longer on the hope that she might come back. This morning, we got out and looked for her again. The suck ass part is that I found her at one point and ended up chasing her through two backyards before she got away from me. I even grabbed her twice, but she managed to slip out of my hands both times. Eventually, Dredlock Girl and Zombie Guy came over and helped us check out the neighborhood some more but to avail. There's at least 150 places for a cat to hide around here. So that this point, we're just going to hope that Mishka finds her way back.
Meanwhile, Welsh Girl has spent the last 24 hours crying. Even now, she still bursts into tears at random moments.
Thanks 2009. You already officially suck.
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