Saturday, August 2, 2008

I Lost Betsey.

About an hour or so ago, I realized that although I've been home all day, except for one 15-minute errand around 10:30, I hadn't seen Betsey since early this morning. Ross was napping in his favorite rocking chair (Honestly, no one else can ever sit in this chair. It should be renamed "Ross's chair."), but I didn't see Betsey.

I started looking in her favorite spots: any of the chairs under the dining room table; the loveseat in the living room; behind a chair in the family room; on my bed; under my bed; in the cushy chair in my bedroom; and under my night table. She wasn't in any of her usual spots.

Next, I explored Ross's spots: on a pile of clean linens in the linen closet; under the bathroom sink (he can actually open the door himself); under the kitchen sink (again, he can unlatch the door with ease); next to the HVAC vents in both the living room and family room; and in front of the sliding glass doors in the living room. Again, nothing.

Walking around my house calling out "Betsey! Betsey Gardner" felt stupid, but I had no choice. I even looked in the litter boxes to see if she'd fallen asleep in one. Still nothing. Betsey is very "talkative," so I was surprised that I wasn't hearing her chatting somewhere.

After about an hour of repeatedly searching in the same spots over and over again (isn't that the definition of insane: repeating the same activity over and over and expecting different results?) and calling her name and carrying around catnip, I was in a cold sweat. I had lost my girl. She was gone. The panic in my voice was palpable. My heart was in my throat. How could I lose Betsey? How could she have gotten out? How would I explain this to Ross? How would I live without her?

Finally, I remembered that very early this morning, I had gone into the guest room to put something away. I was there maybe 15 seconds and the door was closed, so I thought the odds were small. But I walked to the door anyway, took a deep breath, opened the door and there was my girl sitting on the bed! She got up, hopped off the bed without being asked (a first in 12 years) and ran right over to me. And then she wouldn't shut up. If I spoke cat, I'm sure she was yelling at me for locking her in the guest room for hours and even leaving the house to run an errand without noticing she was gone.

Now I have no problem locating Betsey. She's perched herself on my left wrist as I type this confession. She'll be glued to my side for the rest of the day. That's just the way she is and part of why I love her so much.

Note to Self: Always check to make sure cats don't follow me into the guest room before closing the door.


  1. I am glad that had a happy ending. I was really prepared for something much worse. I am glad you found Betsey.

  2. Thanks Boxer. I'm glad I found Betsey too!

    Honestly, I should learn to always check the guest room BEFORE I panic. This isn't the first time I've locked her in there. And, bless her heart, she just waits patiently for me to remember she's there.

  3. I'm glad you found Betsey. I wish more people understood how devestating loosing a pet is, it's like loosing a child to the pet owner.

  4. Pele did this to me once, when some delivery people came to deliver some furniture to a roomie. They left the front door open and we couldn't find Pele anywhere. We called and called, and wandered around the neighborhood. After four hours, I just sat down and bawled. Another hour after that, her she is, strolling down from an upstairs bedroom, where she had apparently been sleeping underneath several blankets in a closet.

    They do put us through the ringer, don't they?

  5. GG,

    Is it wrong that I laughed at your story? Of course, I can only laugh because I know the agony and then the exasperation at finding our beloved kitties in such obvious places and I honestly hope you laughed at story too!

  6. Violet_Yoshi,

    You are so right. It is like losing a child! Some of my friends think I'm a bit over-the-top when I have to take attendance of Betsey and Ross before I leave the house. Don't you know Betsey would be "misplaced" the first time in 12 years I didn't take attendance before running out the door?

  7. Really, laughing is the only response. Because she was obviously oblivious to the fact that everyone was looking for her, and could have cared less, even if she knew. I mean, we had looked in the closet, but who could have known to look under a three foot tall stack of blankets. In the summer.

    Now what was even funnier is that not long after Boxer moved in, we were downstairs rearranging some boxes, and pele managed to get the door open and come down and I said to Boxer, "Catch her, please. She likes to get inside the wall." So he was sauntering after her; she was at least 50 feet from the hole into the wall. Then all of a sudden I hear, "Oh crap! She's in the wall!" Poor guy could hardly believe that a kitty so fat could move that darn fast! I came over and pounded on the wall and she popped out, but oh man!


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