Runaway

Friday night was the annual lighting of the Christmas lights and parade around the square.  Kratt followed us. 

 

Mike put Kratt inside his coat like a homeless man.  It was pathetic and cute at the same time.  Kratt got nervous, jumped out of Mikes’ coat and ran down the alley behind the jewelry store.  We figured Kratt knew his way and didn’t think much of it.

 

Saturday morning Kratt did not come running inside for breakfast as usual.  In fact, he did not come back all day.  Mike and Ross walked all over town searching with no luck.  I drove around town scanning porches and yards for him.  I thought I spotted him a couple times but it was just Hawkeye, another orange cat who lives down the road.  I called the Winterset vet offices and left messages that he was missing in case someone brought him in.  I even put a posting on the Madison County Mama’s Facebook page to keep an eye out for a missing cat.  Again, what in the world have I become?

 

Mike said each time he went downstairs and saw Kratt’s food and water bowl, it made him sad.  Ross asked we had any pictures of Kratt, because he didn’t want to forget what he looked like and that all he wanted for Christmas was Kratt back.

 

I did an online search on how to lure a missing cat home.  It suggested we retrace our steps, call his name, set his litter box outside our door and then wait.  We’re naturally impatient people.  After dinner we bundled the kids up, grabbed a flashlight and a Mason jar of vodka (not for Kratt) and began our search party.  We retraced out steps, walked down alley’s while shining a light in open garages and under cars.   We found a black cat twice and a white and yellow striped cat once.  No Kratt.  We opted against a candlelight vigil and headed home.

 

In the morning, I was the first one to wake.  I went downstairs, opened the back door and called for him. I heard a small ‘meow’ and saw his orange body running up the deck steps and into the house.  I hollered upstairs, “Kratt’s back!”

 

It was early Christmas at our house Sunday morning.  I sort of felt like Carol Brady in ‘A Very Brady Christmas’ and felt the urge to sing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful”,  But I didn’t.

 

At the end of the cat-rescue article I read, it said if you love your cat and your cat loves you, it’s not necessary to look for your missing cat; it will come find you.