Missing

 Lucifer went missing tonight. 

It was dinner time. I put out his wet food at 6.30 as per usual. I called him. He didn't come. I tapped on a can of baked beans. He didn't come. He's not the most food-driven of beasts, but he normally comes out for his wet food, tail upright and vibrating. 

Not tonight. 

He's spent half of the afternoon snuggled up to me. I took a half day as I'm being kicked around by jetlag and I'm no use to anybody. This gave me some time and space to sleep and do the washing. I had a bag full of clothes that smelled like feet, so I was up and down to the clothesline a few times. 

And I slept for most of the afternoon. 

But he didn't come out for his dinner. 

I called him. Silence. 

I looked in all of his favourite hiding places. Nothing. 

And then I saw the door was open and the screen door was off the latch. Shit!

I went up and down the stairs, looking. Thankfully the stairwell door was shut. But no sign of the cat. 

I went out shut the door and had a look around the flats, calling first by his name, then by his dead name (Reggie - a name he will respond to on occasion) Zip. Nada. 

I cancelled my online personal training session. I was too distraught. 

He's never been outside unless he's in his carrier. He's never see a car outside his car carrier. He's unfriendly and probably has no road sense. 

I was in a state. 

I checked the flat again, then the stairwell, then another lap of outside. 

An hour later, I flopped down on my bed, crying and exhausted. Should I knock at the neighbours, see if they'd seen him. Should I put notes up around the flats? Should I call the RSPCA? He'd probably only been gone an hour, but I've not felt fear like this ever. It's like losing a child at a shopping centre. 

So, I lay crying on my bed with worry and fear. 

And the cretin walks out of the cupboard. 

He's fine. He was in the cupboard. 

Little prick. 

Today's song: