2006-09-24 - 7:58 a.m.
....cat's on the roof....
Mizzy is on the roof. On the NEIGHBOR's roof. She is stuck there. Howling. It's 7am, and she is howling on the neighbor's roof, and there is nothing I can do about it.
But at least I found her, and she's safe. I've somehow developed an instinct for knowing when all is not right in catworld. I woke up this morning at about 6:30am and heard seagulls frollicking on OUR roof just above our heads in the bed. (Seagulls are extremely loud at frolicking). That's when I knew something was wrong. When Mizzy is around, the seagulls NEVER frolic on our roof - they scurry OFF the roof, maybe, but frolicking is clearly an off-limit sport. Then I looked in Mizzy's favorite sleeping chair - and *Lyra* was playing the opportunist - curled up happy, snug, and a wee bit too content with herself. And then I realized that I hadn't seen Mizzy since the day before.
I came downstairs to the food bowls - no stirrings from the black one, so she wasn't in the worm hole. (I am convinced that there is a worm hole in this house. Because sometimes the cats vanish from sight. No matter how many nooks I check, I can never find them - until I wiggle the food bowl, and then the mysterious worm hole spits them back and they come pattering in from another room.)
But this is serious. She is sitting on an isolated part of the neighbor's roof - howling at me. How she got herself isolated on the part of the roof that no one can get to? I could speculate...Maybe she *was* going after seagulls and things went awry - she fell off the top roof and by the grace of god landed there instead of three stories down. Maybe she came into the neighbor's house through the front door and then was relegated to back porch for the night? Maybe she just jumped there on a bet.
But now everytime I go onto *our* backporch - which is two-to-three friggin' cat-leaps away from the roof island she is currently inhabiting - she makes it clear that she is looking to me to solve this problem.
m'ow... MEOOOWWWWW.. MEEEOOWWWWW!!
When no one was looking (hey, really no one was looking - it's 7am on a Sunday), I found two two-by-fours and tried to build a temporary bridge between the two rooves. I guess I should be pleased to note that my cat demonstrated wisdom over desperation in that she looked at me like I was nuts. What kind of creature leaps from a roof island onto two two-by-fours dangling in mid-air over the threatening abyss (read: dog that lives on the first floor)? I knew it wouldn't fly. But as I said, no one was looking.
So really, there is essentially nothing I can do for my poor, cold, hungry cat, until the world awakens and decides to recognize that it is another day.
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...they are just words, Suzi... - 2011-08-29