Stoopid-ness Continued

Time passes...the sun sinks lower towards the horizon. I decide I better get all the cats inside.

Gracie sees me coming and makes a run for the doorway. She's timid and pretty much runs everywhere.

Bob needed to be herded off the deck and Nicky was already inside. I didn't do a head count once inside. I didn't think any of the other cats even bothered to go outdoors today.

The intercom rings. It's Sam. He says he sees a cat in the feral feeding room. It looks like a new cat. Biggish, dark, not like the gray cat I usually feed. I grab my camera and come downstairs as Sam gives me the play by play the the cat is just leaving. I hustle back upstairs to look out the window. Below me is, indeed a cat. The cat looks up at me. I look down.

HOLY SHIT it's my feral cat, Madison! I haven't seen her for a YEAR. She looks big! I try to take a photo, but I can't get the image focused fast. I want to get a shot before she runs off. Then, I look at the cat again. Madison was black with a white spot on her chest, but this cat is chubby?! Oh no! Suddenly, my mind goes on a hypersonic journey where I begin to realize I haven't seen CRICKET for a LONG TIME.

CRICKET who looks JUST LIKE Madison, only BIGGER!

CRICKET, who didn't show up for lunch.

I look around the room and call down to Sam, asking him if he saw Cricket recently. His answer was; NO. Suddenly, I drop the camera and make a dash out the door. CRICKET IS OUTSIDE, IN THE YARD. CRICKET used to be FERAL. CRICKET isn't just going to walk over to us and let us carry him into the house.

As Sam and I get outside, CRICKET GETS SCARED and RUNS OFF.

SHIT!

Guess what? It's 5pm and I'm STILL in my jammies. I'm outside calling to Cricket. Sam goes after him and Cricket makes a lap around the house back to me. I manage to shoo him into the feral cat room. All he has to do is go through the door and into the house. Instead he HIDES in the feral cat house and won't come out. I stand outside the room, at the opening where the cat door is with my hands over the opening so Cricket can't get back out. Sam tries to get Cricket to go into the house, but all he does is make a beeline for the cat door and my HANDS. I can't see what is going on, but I can feel his claws rip my hands, but I know I can't move them or he'll get out and we may never see him again. Then really freaked out, Cricket tries to climb the walls to get out. I told Sam to stop doing anything, while I wondered if I was going to have to go to the ER-again.

We let Cricket settle down and eventually we got him to run into a small cat condo. Sam was able to carry into the house with Cricket still inside. It's been two hours since Cricket came back. He must have been gone all day! I just saw him eating some food. He was still nervous, but starting to relax. My hand is sore, but fine. Just a few scratches.

I'm grateful that Cricket knew to stay close to the house since he couldn't get back up to the deck. If Sam hadn't noticed there was a cat in the feeding room, we may have lost our boy forever!

Stoopid, stoopid, stoopd!