Last night when we were carving our over-priced pumpkin, Jennifer noticed that the screen door was open and my cats were nowhere to be found. I didn't freak out. Each of them has gotten out a few times since I moved to Walnut Creek, and we always recovered them without too much trouble. But never have they both escaped at the time nor this close to nightfall.
I went out to search armed with a little plastic jar of cat treats, but I couldn't find them. Anywhere. I looked around for about half an hour. Shook the treats. Whistled. But they were nowhere to be found.
I went back to the house, finished carving the pumpkin, watched some TV and went out looking during the commercials. But all I managed to scare up was some of the local cats who were charmed by the jingling of the cat treats.
Just after it got dark, I went out again and saw Mak walking towards me down the road. I went towards him, but like a little shithead, he bolted into the bushes. I coaxed him out with treats, but when I finally grabbed him there was a car coming down the road and people walking towards us on the sidewalk and Mak, who is a nervous cat at the best of times, freaked. I managed to hold onto him, but he tore into me, carving up my arms and my hands with his talons. What did I ever do to him other than keep under house arrest for 6 months?
Once I had Mak under control, I saw Fil, grabbed her and spirited them off to the apartment with Mak simpering all the way. The little shits are now safe and secure, thankfully.
Cats are ingrates.
That's why dogs are man's best friend, while cats, although cute, are more like man's indifferent acquaintances.