The Disappearing Neko

I couldn’t find Neko this morning. All kinds of bad thoughts went through my head.  Is he lying sick somewhere in the house, unable to move? Maybe he snuck out this morning while Ken was loading his truck to go to work.  Could he have gotten caught in a cupboard? Or perhaps locked behind a door accidently left open?  

I checked all the usual places. Half-filled laundry baskets downstairs, a sock draw left open, the pile of clothes in my closet, Ken’s side of the bed (never mine), window sills on the sunny side of the house. Nothing. All the spots were empty and cold.

I called Ken to see if he put him in the garage and then forget he was there when he loaded the truck. Nope. He’s just gone.

I called him. I know – that’s stupid. Cat don’t come when called, especially narcissist little runts of the litter. I have other ways to get him to come though. I change my voice so it sounds like something really exciting is happening and he needs to come see. Such as a mouse in the house, or a giant bird at the windows, or maybe even another cat walking around outside our house.  No sound. So that didn’t work.

I shook the bag of kitty treats. That gets him every time. However, he just finished breakfast, so he wasn’t hungry enough to come for that.

I tried the most desperate ploy of all. I opened the back door, tempting him to make a break for the great outdoors. I even push the doorbell so he would think that someone was here for him to attack. Still nothing.

Then I saw him. He was sitting on a ledge above the closet, hiding among the spinning wheels and plants. He had just sat up there, watching me as I shook his treat bag, opened all the cupboards and doors, called to him, chanted to him in my ‘excited’ voice, open and shut the back door. I swore at him and walked away.

 I didn’t even know cats could laugh.