The kitty hunt has come to an end…

20 Apr

By Midnight, Mocha had not made an appearance back to the mother ship, and I had given up. After numerous phone calls from everyone asking me if she had returned, I sort of decided that at that point it was out of my hands and into whatever hand that sort of shit can fall to in the offices of fate. My thought process ended with this bit of common sense: I could either make myself crazy with all type of scenarios or just chill and let whatever happens, happen. Sometimes you just cannot fight the forces in the universe, it’s useless.

I did confirm during the day, while walking the neighborhood and driving around that she had, in fact, not become road kill. That idea (sort of) keep me a bit sane.

So I went to bed. Did I sleep? After waking up to the trillion noises during the night and rushing to open the front door, hoping to find her out there all scare and shit, I finally gave up and got out of bed at 5AM.

I went about my morning routine and as I open the door to let the strays in to eat (oh, yeah on top of my two divas, I also take care of two more cats which live OUTSIDE of my house) who do you think wanders in with a “Devil-may-care attitude”

Yep, you guess it…

Mocha sassy her ass back to the house as if she owned the place (which she does, but no sense in letting her know that I’m on to her).

And after my shock wore off in seeing her in front of me, I did what anyone in their right mind would do: I scoped her up and checked her for scratches and other incurable damage. Then I proceeded to sit and cry with the joy of it – and not a tiny cry, but a BIG, over the top, OMG cry, the type of crying episodes that just sucks all the energy out of you.

Where this crying binging came from? I haven’t got a clue, but it was there all bottled up and I guess I need to pop that cork out and let the bubbling spill right out and make a mess all over the place.

And what was Mocha doing during all this crazy?

She, sat there looking at me and giving me the “You-are-not-the-BOSS-of me” stance while looking at the food bowl and actually meowing.. Yes MEOWING! The nerved of her!

Sucker that I am… I gave in and open a can of tuna all the while thinking to myself that if having kids was going to be this extreme, I may have to go back and re-think strategies here. Because I don’t think I can handle something like this from my own flesh and blood.


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