Well, just when we'd all given up hope, the cat came back.
Three and 1/2 weeks later, skinny, dirty and with a pitifully hoarse meow. Our friends that had been cat-sitting him when he escaped called last night at midnight, to let us know that he's just sauntered right into their house, and that their oldest daughter was holding him. Matt went over and picked him up and brought him back home. He meowed and meowed (but that's not really anything new), ate a ton of food, and I attempted to clean him up. He pooped all over the floor in the middle of the night, and threw up, but he seems very happy to see us. A changed cat, and for the better. He was so strange, pretty much just doing whatever he wanted to do, and did NOT like to be touched or petted. But now he won't go away: he sat by Matt at lunch, he keeps rubbing up against our legs, and even seems like he likes us. I gave him a real bath this morning. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, thanks to our Box Blindex (I think that's what they are called). Many apartments here have showers called "blindex", which just means that they are kind of big and they have big glass doors. No bathtub. So I just shut myself in there with him and sponged him off. The kids don't seem near as excited as I thought they'd be. And I just wonder what the heck he had been doing...sounds like a good idea for a kids book....
Butchers, Nationalism, and Empathy
2 days ago