A brief taste of freedom for the Foo

At the beginning of May, I vacated my old two bedroom apartment with a secured entry as I ventured out into the world of the duplex, that magical place that's not quite an apartment and not quite a house. The beauty of my old place with its secured entry was that if the Foo did manage to make a break for it and escape our modest little place, she found herself trapped in a dingy hallway and was easily corralled and routed back to her captivity. Sadly, the duplex has no such entry, and the Foo was quick to capitalize on this mistake on the architect's part. This is an account of Tofu (who, if you don't know and have been wondering about, is my cat. It's not like I'm one of those creepy people who steal kids and then keep them locked up for years or anything, don't worry) and her brief taste of freedom.

This is how I imagine it went. The Foo, being the brilliant and devious tactician that she is, upon our arrival at the new apartment, immediately took note of all the exits, filing away their weaknesses in the case that an opportunity arose. She carefully noted that the storm door doesn't actually latch closed, and with only a slight push, can be opened. She gleefully saw that the screen on the window of the storm door is only connected on the top and one side, leaving the bottom left corner to flap open. She noticed that there isn't room to stand between the closed main door and the storm door, so by necessity there is a window of time in which both doors are invitingly open. She therefore made three assessments: A. perhaps during those days when her captor leaves the main door open with the storm door shut to enjoy the day, she could push it open, B. if the door proves itself too heavy to open, she may be able to use her cat-like (because she is, in fact, a cat) agility to soar through the flapping screen that separates her from joyously frolicking in the foliage, and C. if all else fails, she could take advantage of her captors often distracted thoughts and creep stealthily past her as she or a friend exits the apartment.

She sadly found that the door is indeed too heavy, and that she herself is too heavy to soar through the screen door, the fatty, and so she was forced to resort to Plan C. So she waited, patiently biding her time, for the perfect opportunity. And there it was, pulsating with a warm, orange glow, choirs of angels singing, bidding her to make her move: both doors open, distracted people chatting. Her little heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and fright, she sneaked by, making her way into the dark night. What followed was a glut of rolling in dirt, hunting insects, and exploring the wonders of the neighborhood. Night became day, and finally, around seven in the morning, a great hue and cry was heard when the jailer discovered that there was an escapee. The Foo hid under porches, behind bushes, beneath cars, avoiding detection by the search party who circled the area throughout the day, asking passerby if they'd seen the runaway. Finally, late in the afternoon, driven by hunger and thirst, Foo resigned herself to captivity, if only for food and water, but ever watchful for the next lax moment when she could escape.

Seriously though, I called my mom sobbing early Friday morning, literally taking ten years off her life, convinced that I would never see Foo again and that she was probably dead somewhere. I called in sick to work, spent hours walking/biking through my neighborhood, asked everyone I saw if they'd seen her, posted on craigslist.com's pet section, and spent a whole lot of time crying. It was ridiculous. And then at 4 o'clock, she just walks right up like nothing has even happened. That little shit. And then she did it again. That little shit. No gratitude, that's what. You feed them, pet them, clean up their litterboxes, and what do they do for you? They run away and leave you in tears. Those little shits. I'll tell you what, it's not happening again. No cats are going to sneak by me again. Eagle-eye. That's what they're gonna call me in their little cat-circles. Only they'll whisper it, cause they'll all be in fear of me. FEAR ME! That's right. I hope you're reading this, Foo. If you are, you just remember this. Remember that my wrath is great and my punishment is swift. And don't even THINK about escaping again. Cause I'll find you.