You know the saying -- "it's like looking for a needle in a haystack." It implies an impossibility in the search effort. But I think it should be revised. I think if you have time, you can actually find a needle in a haystack. Perhaps magnets would help. Eventually you may well find that needle. So I have a better saying which more accurately describes the futility of a search -- "it's like looking for a kitten on the loose in Stoughton."
You'd like an explanation perhaps. Okay.
We woke up to warmer weather. There is a promise of some sunshine. All in all, not a bad start to the week. Considering how horrible things are in California, Oregon and Washington, I think we're doing exceptionally well here.
I walk over to feed the five big cats. (We'd lost one recently -- one of the Friendlys. One morning he just did not show up. It's a mean world out there!) I throw a glance at the writer's shed where the two little girls had been hanging out for the past month. We're cleaning it up now. We're fairly confident that their new adoptive owner will bond with them. She's determined. They're sweet. It has to be a good outcome!
I come inside and start fixing breakfast.
Nina! -- this from Ed upstairs. I note the "Nina." Can't be good.
It isn't good. Turns out that the adoptive person brought the two kitties home yesterday and, on the advice of her friend, decided to take some measures to protect herself from kittie fleas. Now, since Ed combs the cats routinely, he'll swear to you that none of the cats have fleas, but I suppose people get antsy about cats picked up on Craigslist. For some reason the anti-flea measures were conducted upon arrival, in the large garage of their apartment building.
Why was anyone surprised that when the carrier door was opened, one of the kitties -- Cutie -- escaped.
The new owner did not want to bother us with this news last night. But I guess this morning, she felt she had no choice but to let us know. Cutie is gone.
She tells us someone posted on social media that they'd seen a cat roughly like Cutie hiding in some bushes downtown. Could we come out and help look?
We eat a quick breakfast...
... and drive down to Stoughton.
It's a pointless search, really. By this morning, the cat could be anywhere. But, thinking that we may get lucky, Ed and I set out to walk far back of the apartment complex, past vast commercial venues, up and down main streets, down to the town's periphery, through forests and meadows, all around the parks, and along the side streets of Stoughton -- a town of some 13,000 -- me calling to the little girl with a voice and name that she has long recognized as signaling food and friendship.
We walked and shouted and walked some more...
I grew hoarse, the weather warmed, but there is no sign of Cutie. This is no surprise, of course. Our country is large, there are bushes and trees from here to the Atlantic and Pacific. Even if she had been determined to stay within the borders of Stoughton, she would have six square miles to navigate. And beyond that -- forests and cornfields and the rest of Wisconsin and America.
There is no happy ending, of course. Calico is crying for her sister and her sister is, for the first time in her life, looking civilization in the eye. (She has never ventured beyond our farmette and the forest across the road from us.)
May it treat her kindly. Sigh...
(On the porch, the big cats rest...)
In better news, I have a late afternoon Zoom meet up with these two...
Each of us has had a share of tough moments recently. I surely have had an easy time of it compared to too many others. Still, the three of us are good at aiming for the upbeat mode. On most days, we can find plenty to smile about.
Evening. I had big cooking plans, really I did. Maybe later in the week. For now, I cook up some soup for the soul. With rainbow chard and cannellini beans and lots of onions. Sprinkled with grated parmesan. Really good for the soul!
You'd like an explanation perhaps. Okay.
We woke up to warmer weather. There is a promise of some sunshine. All in all, not a bad start to the week. Considering how horrible things are in California, Oregon and Washington, I think we're doing exceptionally well here.
I walk over to feed the five big cats. (We'd lost one recently -- one of the Friendlys. One morning he just did not show up. It's a mean world out there!) I throw a glance at the writer's shed where the two little girls had been hanging out for the past month. We're cleaning it up now. We're fairly confident that their new adoptive owner will bond with them. She's determined. They're sweet. It has to be a good outcome!
I come inside and start fixing breakfast.
Nina! -- this from Ed upstairs. I note the "Nina." Can't be good.
It isn't good. Turns out that the adoptive person brought the two kitties home yesterday and, on the advice of her friend, decided to take some measures to protect herself from kittie fleas. Now, since Ed combs the cats routinely, he'll swear to you that none of the cats have fleas, but I suppose people get antsy about cats picked up on Craigslist. For some reason the anti-flea measures were conducted upon arrival, in the large garage of their apartment building.
Why was anyone surprised that when the carrier door was opened, one of the kitties -- Cutie -- escaped.
The new owner did not want to bother us with this news last night. But I guess this morning, she felt she had no choice but to let us know. Cutie is gone.
She tells us someone posted on social media that they'd seen a cat roughly like Cutie hiding in some bushes downtown. Could we come out and help look?
We eat a quick breakfast...
... and drive down to Stoughton.
It's a pointless search, really. By this morning, the cat could be anywhere. But, thinking that we may get lucky, Ed and I set out to walk far back of the apartment complex, past vast commercial venues, up and down main streets, down to the town's periphery, through forests and meadows, all around the parks, and along the side streets of Stoughton -- a town of some 13,000 -- me calling to the little girl with a voice and name that she has long recognized as signaling food and friendship.
We walked and shouted and walked some more...
I grew hoarse, the weather warmed, but there is no sign of Cutie. This is no surprise, of course. Our country is large, there are bushes and trees from here to the Atlantic and Pacific. Even if she had been determined to stay within the borders of Stoughton, she would have six square miles to navigate. And beyond that -- forests and cornfields and the rest of Wisconsin and America.
There is no happy ending, of course. Calico is crying for her sister and her sister is, for the first time in her life, looking civilization in the eye. (She has never ventured beyond our farmette and the forest across the road from us.)
May it treat her kindly. Sigh...
(On the porch, the big cats rest...)
In better news, I have a late afternoon Zoom meet up with these two...
Each of us has had a share of tough moments recently. I surely have had an easy time of it compared to too many others. Still, the three of us are good at aiming for the upbeat mode. On most days, we can find plenty to smile about.
Evening. I had big cooking plans, really I did. Maybe later in the week. For now, I cook up some soup for the soul. With rainbow chard and cannellini beans and lots of onions. Sprinkled with grated parmesan. Really good for the soul!
