I Thought I Lost the Cat Today

I thought I lost the cat today. When I came home he was nowhere to be found. I searched every room. I called and called for him. I was at my wit’s end trying to find him. The cat has been hanging around the front door a lot lately and all I could think was that the cleaning lady accidentally left him out. I searched the hall, the courtyard, the nooks and crannies of each room … there was no sign of him. (By the way, I don’t know the cat’s name. Madame just calls him “the cat.”) I could have cried. Not that it would be absolutely my fault if he disappeared – merely mostly my fault. I am taking care of him while she is away. The cat is my responsibility. I sat down on the bed in the spare bedroom to think out what my next action should be when I noticed the pillow had an extra lump in it. The extra lump turned out to be the cat. He was under the comforter and pillow. The bloody cat. I searched for over 30 minutes and was almost in tears. I mean, had the cat permanently disappeared, the rest of my stay with Chantal probably would not have turned out pleasantly. I can just imagine her response if I told her the cat was gone. He is a relatively unhappy mound of cat, but he is her baby. ::sigh:: After I rescued him from the comforter, he promptly bit me. Got to love the cat. I do like him despite his temperamental attitude. He is a source of companionship. I love when he curls up beside me in bed … reminds me of my apartment cat Frankie and how he loves to sleep with me.