Missing Cat

My cat is gone. The cat I got when I first got married (our first child!), Ashley. She was a lovely little Russian Blue with beautiful gray hair. She has been a daily part of my life for the past 16 years and 2 months. Ashley was an indoor cat up until June of this year. She had no interest in stepping outside of the house, but suddenly she was streaking out of the house every time there was a crack in the door. She would push her way through and leap out into the yard. It was all really weird, but after a week of trying to discourage her she became an outdoor cat. She would come to the back door and bang the screen door to get my attention. She would act all frantic as if she were a starving orphan (when she ate not 20 minutes prior) I would open the door and she would race through the house to the front door (where the food was) and persistently exclaim that she was HUNGRY! And she did not want to eat inside the house, she demanded that her food be served on the front porch. Weirdo.

I brought her in the house every chance I got and she would claw her way back outside. She simply decided that she was now an outdoor cat. And her personality changed completely. Our other cat (Emmie) goes in and out of the house as he pleases. He has been the ruler of the universe for many, many moons. But as Ashley gained her new independance she became very fiesty. Ashley used to watch Emmie steal her treats and sit quietly by, but outside she became the Queen of Everything and suddenly Emmie was taking a backseat. I watched in astonishment as Ashley would literally push Emmie away from the food as she took the lion's share of whatever she wanted. It was like Bizarro Cat World. Everything was totally backwards and opposite.

Until Saturday, August 8. Hunk was awake at 4 am, not sure why. He said Ashley was at the back door. Nothing unusual, she was waiting for breakfast. When I awoke around 7 am and went to feed her, she was not there. She hasn't been back since. I have worried and searched for that cat everyday since then. I have come to the realization that she is probably not coming back.

I've made flyers, visited Animal Control, etc. I know that no one would let her stay inside their house because she shits everywhere (she is old and had lost a lot of control), also her insistance to be outdoors. We had our house carpeted in puppy pads for her problems, so when she decided to take it outside I admit we were a bit happy. I have a hard time believing that she was just old and died in her sleep, because of the tenacity she was showing the day prior to her disappearance. I would like to think that she just died of old age, but I have visions of her meeting a coyote, or getting hit by a car (not TOO likely, we live in the sticks) and it just haunts me. I HATE HATE HATE to think she might've suffered, or needed help and felt all alone. But she is an animal, she was equipped to handle herself (she had her claws) and she WANTED to be outside.

At times I feel irresponsible for letting her go outside, but then again, I feel like it is the right thing to do to let her be where she truly wanted to be. We have a LOT of land, and while I can't control the animals I feel that she was completely safe from any man-made dangers. I felt better that Emmie decided to stay outside once she was out there - they were fierce friends and I felt that *maybe* they would look out for each other. Emmie continues to look for her everyday, he is lost without her and he has not left the front porch since she has been missing. He absolutely will not come inside the house - I guess he thinks he might miss her if she returns. He is no doubt a sad cat.

I just miss her. Not knowing is just the WORST part. I keep looking at the back door, expecting to see her little gray face getting all frantic as if she hadn't eaten in months. I'm longing for the way she got underfoot to swirl between my legs to let me know that I was indeed "her person". I'm just sad.

YIKES

The bridge collapse in Minnesota has me in a place that I never wanted to know existed. I've lived my life in fear of things falling while I'm on them. Not so much a fear as a morbid thought process of "what if" and how things would play out if said object fell and I was plummeting down. What would I think of? Would I devise a plan to cushion the fall? If I JUMP at just the right moment would it help? What MacGyver types of objects do I have with me that I can use to survive the rubble? So, I would not say I was afraid to cross bridges, but accutely aware that in movies, these things can fall.

I don't think I ever really thought it would happen to someone just driving along, minding their own business and BOOM, it's down. I've realized that I don't live, nor have I ever been in an area known for earthquakes, but I thought if ever I were to be in California I may have some mental issues. In an area that is earthquakey this could happen, but not from age, or rust, or whatever it was, somehow if nature causes it then it is meant to be. It's denial that I have. I have truly thought that this could not happen to me. Bridges are inspected and no DOT would ever allow us to drive on unsafe overpasses. Random little thoughts that someone is doing their job and doing it well so that I don't have to worry about bridges falling from the lack of structural integrity and more, lack of human intelligence. Silly me.

But now - NOW I KNOW. The harsh reality has hit home, the naive denial is over. Now I have fear of all things not on the ground. Street grates, overpasses, high decks, swings, sky lifts, ski lifts you name it. We did NOT go to the top of Stone Mountain this past weekend because I'm too much of a head case to get in the cable car, sky lift thingie. The very thing I have been in about a zillion times, but now I have a freakish fear that it will snap and drop. This bridge collapse comes riding on the tail of the cable snap at Six Flags which severed a girl's feet from her body. SEVERED. Did you hear that?? So not only might I fall from the cable car, I could lose some parts in the process because, after all, the thing is held up by CABLES. UNDER TENSION. Sheeesh.

Now, I'm a pretty practical girl and I even refused to let terrorists frighten me from flying, but this is not terrorism, it is stupidity of people and that scares the hell out of me. So I'll be flying to San Francisco on Sept. 11 of this year, and while the date crossed my mind it is out of reverence for those lost, not fear of those who caused it. But you can bet your sweet ass that I won't be stepping foot on the Golden Gate Bridge. Which is sad, because I've never been there before. I'll admire it from land and I'll try to convince those around me that while I am a head case, I'm a pretty nice head case.

Anybody out there in San Francisco??