conspiracy theory.

by Liz on 06.18

Salvador went missing this weekend.

I went through a whole guilt-complex thing because I didn’t even notice he was missing, and when I finally did, couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him. Clearly he ran away because of my neglect (or Little J’s tail-pulling. I made sure to hiss, “YOU DID THIS,” so he adequately felt his own guilt in the matter).

Sal was from the SPCA so he came with a standard microchip thingy in his back. When we first got him, I thought it was cruel and gross and weird. I would pet him and swear I felt a square corner poking out of his back and then I’d yell, “ROBOT CAT” and jump away from him. Turns out that microchip thingy is sort of neat. It’s not, as I stupidly first assumed, a sort of homing device. My cat unfortunately does not have a GPS tracking system beneath his fur. Bummer. But apparently, if he was found and brought into a shelter, they’d be able to tell who he is by scanning his back or something. I guess that’s pretty cool. I mean, it’ll do.

So, we called those guys and they “flagged” their systems to keep an eye out for “the cutest cat in the world with long fur and whiskers that curl at the ends like Salvador Dali’s mustache, sob.” Then we put his bowls of food and water on the front step and (gross) sprinkled some of his used litter in the yard. I don’t know. It’s supposed to help him smell his way back? “Yep. That right there smells like my butt. I must be home!”

We made fliers and I was embarrassed to realize all of my photos of Sal were instagrammed. So, his “Lost Cat” fliers looked like a retro yearbook photo. Then, we hunted the neighborhood with giant flashlights, making that whispery deranged cat-sound that people make. I envisioned finding him flattened in the middle of the road. Or half-eaten by a dog.

But, while bracing myself for the various ways he may have already died, I also wondered. When did I last see that stupid cat?

As the day progressed and it became pretty clear that, no, he wasn’t just hiding under the bed to spring out for a Father’s Day, “Surprise!” I began to remember. The day before, I had seen him just before I’d gone out to the store. I was setting my cup of coffee on the nightstand, contemplating whether or not it was worth the extra energy to bring it all the way in to the kitchen sink. Nope, I decided, and turned to Sal with a wagging finger, “Don’t spill my coffee!” He blinked and went back to sleep in what I resigned myself to believe was compliance.

When I came home later that day, sure enough, there was coffee all over the top and side of my nightstand and spilled across the jeans I had tried on (again) but that didn’t fit (still). “Dammit, now I can’t wear these! It’s all your fault and has nothing to do with the girth of my hips! All your fault!” But, I couldn’t find Sal to appropriately berate him. And, oddly enough, though the coffee was spilled absolutely everywhere, the cup was standing upright.

Luckily, last night we heard some mewing at the door. Poor little Salvador slunk through the screen door with matted, muddy fur and (in my eyes) noticeably fewer pounds. After a bath and some angry cuddling, we’ve made our peace.

 

So, amateur sleuths. Did Sal knock over the coffee, try to solve the problem by righting the cup, realize it was no use, and flee? Did someone sneak in, pour coffee all over my house, and steal my cat? What do you think happened to Sal and (most importantly) it wasn’t my fault, right?

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Erin says:
Jun 18, 2012 7:51 am

That photo really does look like a yearbook pic. Weeeird. Does Sal use his paw to drink at all? I bet he dipped it in the coffee and then didn’t like how it tasted and FLUNG COFFEE ALL OVER THE ROOM. Because that’s the type of thing my own late kitty would have done, and Sal looks like he could be her brother.
Glad he’s home. Did he appreciate his bath?

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Koru Kate {Koru Wedding} says:
Jun 18, 2012 9:03 am

I’m so glad Sal found his way home! As I was reading the post, I kept thinking that there had better be a happy ending :-)

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sarah says:
Jun 18, 2012 9:07 am

It was definitely not your fault.

If he’s anything like my cats, I assume he stuck his paw into the cup to taste the goodness inside, and threw a fit when he tasted the coffee, throwing the coffee everywhere. Then he got bored with the flinging and found another way to entertain himself, which involved sneaking outside to cause mischief.

But it’s also possible there’s a very messy cat burglar afoot. If you see someone wearing black and white stripes, covered in coffee and fur, you should totally be suspicious.

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meghan says:
Jun 18, 2012 11:03 am

Oh Sal. Probably had some damn fine adventures.

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Sheryl says:
Jun 18, 2012 12:27 pm

I’m glad he’s back and doing ok! One of my worst nightmares is for our dog to run away and not come straight back.

It’s also DEFINITELY not your fault. Cats are cats, and they do things their own way.

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meghan says:
Jun 18, 2012 2:18 pm

oh, i’m so glad this had a happy ending. I was getting nervous. he probably had a grand time out and about!

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lyn says:
Jun 18, 2012 2:37 pm

I think you’re overlooking the obvious answer, which is that Little J checked out a library book to learn how to control objects with his mind. He’s advanced to the point where he can empty a mug of its contents and unlatch the door to let the cat out. Better keep an eye on that one! But isn’t it a relief to know it’s not you?

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nikki says:
Jun 18, 2012 3:13 pm

oh losing a pet is so miserable! I’m so glad he made his way back (that’s my favorite, when they just find their way home – it makes it easier to picture some sort of awesome adventure in which he made a conscious decision that life with you people was better than living on the streets)

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Rob S. Parham says:
Jun 18, 2012 4:57 pm

Glad he is back! Not your fault.

He probably went out, found some huge party, got blackout drunk, woke up in an alley, and said, “damn glad I don’t have an eye-patch like the guy in that commercial.” Then, tried to find his way home.

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kc says:
Jun 18, 2012 5:14 pm

This is quite possibly, my favorite post you have ever posted.

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Meg says:
Jun 18, 2012 7:00 pm

I agree with KC.

Also, it’s clearly the babies fault. The baby probably did it with a wrench in the pantry.

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jacqueline says:
Jun 19, 2012 12:16 am

It was probably ninjas.

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Caitlin says:
Jun 19, 2012 10:02 am

It was colonel mustard in the study with the candlestick.

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