If you follow me on twitter you’ll already know all the dramaz that occurred last Friday, if not, here’s the low down.
Friday morning I woke up with an annoying ear ache and distorted hearing (like, really tinny sounds), and because it was Friday and I didn’t want to go into the weekend with an ear infection I decided to head straight to the doctors. Diagnosis was ‘unconfirmed ear infection’ because he couldn’t see it properly or something, but he still gave me antibiotics (something which I’ve been trying to avoid throughout this ridiculously prolonged illness).
At lunch, I did my 30 day shred workout (I went on the fancy scales at the gym last week, too, they tell me that whilst I’ve only lost 1lb of mass, I’ve actually lost 2.5kg of body fat.. meaning I must have switched in some muscles – yay, strength!) and got showered & dressed (this is important for the end of the tale). I set about my afternoon’s work, made lunch, packaged parcels etc. etc. It got to 3pm and I decided it was time to head to the post office.
Our cats are indoor cats, and when we leave the house we shut them in the lounge/kitchen area to create a cat-airlock when we’re leaving through the front door. Usually, we just shake their biscuits and they both come running into the lounge at a sprint. Pumpkin was already in the lounge and I started shaking the biscuits for Bramble, who didn’t come running. I headed upstairs and checked out her usual hiding spots (under the sofa bed in the office, the wardrobe in out bedroom, under the duvet on our bed…) but she wasn’t ANYWHERE to be found. I started pulling the place apart trying to find here but nada. Zilch.
Then it started running through my head that I’d answered the door to the post woman earlier on, and even though I was sure that Bramble hadn’t dashed out (they never come near the open front door) it was fast becoming the only explanation left. I went outside, checked under the car, under the bushes… still shaking the packet of dreamies all the time, but couldn’t see her. I started to panic then and phoned my Mum to come up and help.
I ran around to the street whose houses back onto ours and started knocking on doors, no one had seen her. I’m not ashamed to say I was crying by this point – it was getting dark, the school run had started (and our street is used as a rat-run), and it was raining. Bramble isn’t used to the outside at all. I’d called Adam to come home from work, too, and he made a massive dash from Manchester Uni to home in the fastest time ever.
Me and my Mum continued looking, she drove around the block to see if she could see her, and I did some more door knocking and checking of gardens. We kept going back in the house because Mum and I were both adamant that she wouldn’t have run out, especially in the rain, even though it seemed like the only explanation. We checked wardrobes again, under the sofa, behind sofas, basically everywhere we could think of. There was no meowing, no scratching, nothing.
I phoned the local vets and asked if they’d had any tortoiseshell cats brought in (they hadn’t), and explained that she was chipped, gave my name and number etc. I was on the phone to the last local vet when Adam got home, so my Mum decided to go at that point and leave us both to look.
Adam started on a quick sweep of the house before we both headed out to trawl the streets. Like we’d already done, he checked the usual spots and any other nooks and crannys. By chance, complete chance, he heard a tiny scratch from the chest of drawers. Not a meow, howl, or massive scratch, just a tiny noise… so he started opening the drawers. Lo, and behold! Bramble cat! snuggled down in the second to top drawer, in between a bunch of t-shirts. She’d been in there for over 5 hours not making a peep.
When I’d gotten dressed after my shred, she must have jumped in the drawer. The drawer must have only been half open for her to sneak under and into the back, otherwise she couldn’t have done it as I wouldn’t have been able to close the drawer. The drawer was then shut, and she hung out in there for the rest of the day not making a sound.
So yes, to say I was fraught is an understatement! Adam made me a double G+T and we had a take-away for tea as a treat.
Stupid fucking cats!
I'm Kim, a 26 year old English designer type who lives with two mad kitties and one astrophysicist. I own 
