Pavel's Blog

A few days after Enterprise came back, just when we were beginning to settle down again, Zap stayed out all night.

He'd done this before, as I've described, but it was a bit scarier this time, given Enterprise's so recent, longer-than-usual absence. According to established habit, though, Zap appeared at the door the next morning and we breathed easier once again. Clearly, our boys were going through a bit of a "bad" stint. Hopefully, they'd snap out of it again soon. This was getting annoying.

The next Wednesday night, a week after Enterprise's return, we treated ourselves to a nice dinner out with some foodie friends. The restaurant was way up in Woodinville, and we got a somewhat late reservation, so we got home somewhat late, maybe around 11pm or so. Kathleen had managed to get everyone but Zap inside the house before leaving to come North, so we were anxiously hoping to see him waiting for us when we returned.

As you've guessed by now, he wasn't there. He didn't show up before we finally turned out the light to sleep, and he wasn't waiting at the door the next morning. At work, I was constantly distracted from the tasks at hand, wishing my phone would ring, Kathleen calling to let me know he'd finally come home. It didn't ring.

I came home early that night and, with a dread feeling of déjà vu, we again walked all over the neighborhood, peering under every bush, calling again and again. Nothing.

We considered, of course, printing up a new set of "Lost Cat" posters, but rejected the idea. It was ludicrous. We couldn't go around to all of the neighbors again so soon, it would be ridiculous; they'd think we were nuts, crying wolf, or at least pretty incompetent pet owners. With the experience of Enterprise's little jaunt so fresh in our memories, we headed home again to wait and hope for a full repeat of that happy ending.

November had it in for us, though, and wasn't about to let us off so easily. Zap didn't come back before lights-out, and he still wasn't home the next morning, by now some 48 hours since we'd last seen him.

I went out before breakfast and again walked the whole neighborhood, calling and calling, ignoring the stares of the workmen doing landscaping on a nearby house, explaining myself to the nice housecleaner arriving at a neighbor's house, hoping to see any sign of Zap. He was nowhere to be found. One the way back, I was thinking it'd be really great if my cell phone were to ring, with Kathleen telling me Zap had come home in my absence.

And then it did ring!

It was Kathleen, but my flash of cautious optimism was crushed: she was just asking how it was going. Zap wasn't back at all. We were still in pain, and it felt like nothing was going to help.

My team's offices at work were being moved that day, so there wasn't any point in going in. The team was instead doing a big bowling party, but I really didn't feel up for it, so I stayed home. Kathleen and I made several searches, including tramping down into the wild bushes of the green belt below our house, calling, hoping, crying, losing hope, and searching some more.

We talked about how stupid we were, to have continued to let the cats outside after Enterprise's episode. How could we not have seen this coming after Zap then stayed out overnight shortly thereafter? We cried a lot, and just felt miserable most of the rest of the time.

Eventually, we decided it was time to make some posters, regardless of what our neighbors might think of us. It went faster this time. I already had a template ready to go.