Yesterday, one of the readers of this stupid blog wrote me. She's an animal communicator, and wondered if I had any blue-gray houses that were two stories tall in my neighborhood.
There's really only one two-story house in my neighborhood, because all of these houses were built in 1950 and they're all ranch-style houses. But down at the corner, about a block and a half away, is a two-story house.
The animal communicator also said she saw bare trees around the house, and she said she knew that really didn't make any sense because it's summer. But that house? There was an ice storm this winter and their front tree broke. It was a beautiful big tree and it has all these bare branches. Whenever the dogs and I walk past I always feel sorry for that tree.
The animal communicator said that she saw Lily looking out at the privacy fence on the right side of that house. I'd spent my entire lunch hour at the animal shelter, getting depressed all over again, so when I Google mapped that house and saw a privacy fence on the right side of that house I fell over dead.
I told everyone at work about this story, and they were all, "Go home! Go home now and start looking!"
I worked a full day, because I really couldn't see telling my boss I was gonna go home early because an animal communicator had told me where my cat was. Ned, however, said he was going to start driving through my neighborhood and looking for other houses that fit that description.
I left right at 5:00. I drove directly over to the blue-gray house down the street. I tried very hard to look not crazy as I knocked on their door.
"Hi," I said. I tried not to do my nervous fast talking thing. "I live in this neighborhood. I walk past here all the time with my dogs. Perhaps you recognize me." I knew I was gearing off into crazy with that.
"I lost my cat. " I got out my phone to show the woman a picture of Lily. My computer has been down for more than a week, so all of the pictures that I have taken on this phone have remained on this phone and not gotten download onto my computer.
Charlie, my friend who is paralyzed, had sent a text to a great many of us saying he was working on a project. Because of his accident, strangers are seeing him naked all the time. To help alleviate his humiliation at this, he asked a bunch of us to text him a picture of some naked part of our body. Because I am a good friend, I sent him a picture of one boob.
"Let me show you a picture of my missing cat," I said. I think you know where the story is going. Guess what the last picture was that I took on this camera? "My cat looks exactly like a boob!"
I quickly scanned through my unnaked pictures and showed a nice picture of Lily. The woman who answered the door, who I can't imagine what she could have been thinking because she looked like a normal person, said yes, I could look around through the crawlspace. Which was incredibly nice of her, you have to admit.
Oh, how I kitty-kittyed in her crawlspace. And all through her bushes. Looking I'm sure not at all crazy.
And? No luck.
Ned showed up soon after, and we drove all through my neighborhood, looking at other blue-gray houses, and even knocking on the door of one other blue-gray house that had a bare tree. That person also let me look around his crawlspace and bushes. I did not show him a boob picture.</> Eventually, we gave up and drove around looking for houses to rent. We even drove way out to the country and looked at a really cool place there. We ended up having dinner out there, at the soda fountain, where the owner of the restaurant told us her entire life story, the story of the town, the story of her relatives, the story of her cooking, the story of the universe. She was really very sweet and I had meatloaf.
After, we drove to the lake that's near the house.
"My wife just sent me down here," he said. "You were at our house earlier today, and she just saw a gray cat with white feet run across our lawn."
Ned and I jumped up and we all screamed down to the house. It was dark out, and we all got flashlights like we were a mob who hated Frankenstein, and we all looked in bushes and under cars and the next-door neighbor got involved and we went in his backyard and we all kitty-kittyed until we were hoarse.
But maybe someone saw her! Maybe that was her! I put food out on their steps and on the neighbor's steps and both people are going to be on the lookout for her.
This is exhausting. My poor Lily.
Sent from my iPhone