Yesterday was rough.
When Bruce went into the garage to feed the kittens, only Pagan showed up for food. This is unusual, but not unheard of... Panda is the more wary of the two- Bruce assumed Panda was hiding, and though he told me, I didn’t think anything was amiss either. You see, Bruce and I had gone to Missoula the day before, and we’d left the kittens safely ensconced in the garage. When we got home and needed to put the car in the garage, I’d done the unthinkable! I betrayed the kittens by putting them in the dog kennel while we put the garage door up (terrifying) and drove the car in (ghastly!) and then, putting the garage door down again! (OMG! Just how much can a kitten be expected to stand???) So, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that Panda was still traumatized, and willing to make us pay for our actions.
But then, Bruce went to work, and when I went out in the garage, Pagan was still all alone. I walked around the garage with the food dish, and called and sang, and cajoled. No Panda. I started to worry. Panda never hides from me.
About an hour later, I brought out the big guns... tuna. Pagan was thrilled. Panda didn’t show up. I thought through it all. I KNEW both cats were in the garage when Bruce and I went to bed last night. There is no poison in the garage. There is no way out. There was nothing out of place as if the cat had jumped and had things fall on him. The kittens are just a year old, big, healthy and rambunctious, but when I stood in the garage, there was not a sound... I took a flashlight and peered into every corner, behind paint cans, on all the shelves. No Panda.
I let Pagan outside. I thought... well- MAYBE Panda got inside the house, and somehow slipped unnoticed out the door??? It didn’t seem likely but I’d already opened the chest freezer and looked inside, and the old spare refrigerator- and inside the car, so it didn’t seem any crazier to start looking outside. I thought Pagan would lead me to his brother. But the hours ticked by, and despite frantic searching (with a tuna can in hand) inside and out, Panda was nowhere to be found.
By this time, it was 4:30 pm. I’d accomplished NOTHING all day. I couldn’t eat or think, and I just kept looking in the same places over and over, calling and calling (There was a lot of handwringing and praying going on, too). I brought Pagan in for the night - Put him in the garage, and gave him a bit of the tuna, and then, once again, I just stood silently in the garage, straining to hear anything. I stood there for 10 long minutes- I knew there was no way Panda was hiding for this long- over 16 hours- I knew he’d come to me if he could. I knew he was in trouble or dead. I listened- and thought I might have heard a rustling sound towards the back of the Mustang. I’d already searched under, in, and around the Mustang... but, what the heck... I went to the car, and searched again- calling, begging. And that’s when a thought struck me.
Sunday, we’d purchased a new bed for Skye because she’d ripped up the middle of her old one. We put the old bed upside down on the back of the Mustang, until we could get it to the dump. Was that a large lump? In an already very lumpy bed? I poked it... and it sort of felt like there was something solid there. I tried lifting the bed, but it was very heavy... and there WAS something solid inside it... my first thought was.... what if there’s a rat inside? (Although I have never seen a rat in our garage)... but my second thought was- It’s Panda... and he’s suffocated. There was no sound. No movement. I started calling him again, pulling at the bed, and could see, through layers of tangled layers of cloth, the impression of a paw- pushed tightly up against the fabric...
And then, I saw a slight movement!
I ran back into the house, grabbed a pair of scissors, and glanced at the clock. 4:44 pm.
Carefully, so as not to cut him, I managed to create a slit in several layers of the cloth, and a little head, a LIVING, breathing, kitten head poked through. It was a matter of moments, before Panda emerged, as if being born. He was alive, and purring and hungry. He enjoyed the tuna immensely.
Why didn’t he meow? Or struggle? Or let me know where he was? HOW did he get into a position where he couldn’t find his way out? Did the bed fall? Or shift? Trapping him inside? How did he manage to have enough oxygen? How many of his 9 lives did he use up?
I am SO glad to have both my kittens back- so glad my stubbornness and persistence wouldn’t let me give up on him- so glad he’s alive, and happy. Today is a MUCH better day.
