Someone will doubtless say it wasn't since she had no control over what happened but the way she handled it I think qualifies it for the award.

Got home last night, Dave mentioned he was a bit worried about Sarsi since the last time he saw her was about when I let the builders in to finish off the bathroom and usually she comes into the living room about 5 for a good session of nose skritchies.

So I said "I'll find her" and put some food down... nope Dunzi appeared but not Sarsi.

Now Sarsi does not do "outside" occasionally when Dunzi makes her escape attempts, Sarsi follows then she stops dead looks around as if to say "WHAT was I thinking of?" and comes back . She's not at all keen on the idea through not as bad as Isis (Rainbow Bridge) who hid whenever our door opened, we could have both been standing there with buckets of prawns but if that door was open, she was not to be seen, of course as soon as the hated door was shut she would come out but she had a real dislike of open doors.

I think "Odd" and go looking round all of her hidey holes I know of (I am sure she has others). No sign.

I search high and low for her opening cupboards just in case someone shut the door on her... nothing.

I even thought "The builders put the new bath panel on today. Surely not!" but I went and banged on it and called her then again she hides when strangers come into the flat so she wouldn't be behind there.

So I go out and check the stairs... nope. I even look in both front and back gardens even through she would have to have opened the bolt on the top of the back door downstairs to get out whilst she's smart she wouldn't be able to reach.

By now panic is setting in. I go out again with a bag of cat food so about 10.15 at night locals were treated to the sight of me wondering around outside with a bag of Purina One (The week I have had I didn't get to the Vet for some Hills) calling out "Sarsi! Sarsi fella!" you could almost hear them thinking this sort of thing should have been in the past around here since they closed the local psychiatric hospital!

I get back upstairs, by now, Dave is hallucinating, he was sure he saw her on the top of the wardrobe but he didn't also he think he can hear her outside, which keeps sending me downstairs to no avail I've even asked Reg if he saw her and he's saying if a black cat has run into their flat he would have known she was one of mine and brought her down.

I'm in tears and he's saying "She's not in here she must have got out." We are both sure she has got out and hasn't stayed around, Dave says she wouldn't go on the main road because she doesn't like loud noises (apart from rock music) and I say it doesn't matter where a car hits her in a quiet street or not it can still kill her. He's so distraught he says "She could get pregnant" and I have to point out if she did I'd either sue the vet or call the Vatican.

I go out and have another look and very nearly keeled over, by the basement of the house next door there is a small black shape with what looks like eyes. Gritting my teeth I go and have a look if she tried to crawl home and died there then at least I will know. Turns out to be a bin liner with some junk on top. By now we're hysterical.

We allocate tasks I will design a flyer...also I want to ask for some get your furry butt home purrs from people here... of all the days to lose Sarsi... a year to the day since Dave was admitted to hospital! And the week I've had!

First of all I pop to the loo, Dunzi follows me she's the only one around here that is calm, I even say to her "When you get out Sarsi lets us know can't you have done the same?"

Then I hear scratching noises. I say "Dunzi we have just got this brand new bathroom and you're already scratching the floor?"

I look... Dunzi isn't scratching the floor. I say "Sarsi?" and hear a faint noise that can only be described as "Raaaw-awwwp!"

That's Sarsi she could trademark that noise... but where is she?

Then I realise, "Dave I think I've found her."

He runs in as fast as a wheelchair will allow "Where?"

"I think she's got behind the new bath panel!"

"But we checked."

"Twice."

"Are you sure you're not imagining it?"

I am not I kneel down and put my ear to the panel I can't hear anything... there's only one thing to do. I grab a screwdriver and start to undo one of the panels... nothing. By now I am calling her some names that cannot be repeated by anyone... ever.

Finally I manage to get the top of the panel loose enough I can pull it slightly open.

OUCH!!!

A little black paw just took a swipe at me, ungrateful little so and so (Well that's the censored version of what I said).

Problem: Our screwdriver won't get the screws right out. We could call the housing but they'll take until tomorrow at least. I don't have anything to crowbar the panel off with.

Solution: Our poor friend Dave Mallett is about to have a bath and just before he gets in he gets a phone call asking him if he has the right stuff to get the panel out without doing too much damage? He does and I offer to pay his fares.

An hour so later, the panel comes down and reeking of tile grout etc. Sarsi walks out, looks at us and saunters past as if to say "What's happening?"

The panel has a couple of cracks in it but the main thing is she's okay.

That has got to win some kind of award. Especially after ignoring my banging on the bath panel twice!

Copyright © Lesley Madigan
September 23, 2007