Dr. Frank's What's-it

Cancel that Christmas Cancellation

So Matilda (the cat who ran off and has been missing for the past week) is back.

We did all the usual things, putting up fliers, staking out shelters day by day, knocking on doors, talking to neighbors, and roaming the streets at all hours calling her name. The last seemed in many ways the most pointless and pathetic, and I felt like a bit of an idiot doing it, but in the end that's what worked.

Remember when Bobby and Cindy got lost in the Grand Canyon, and the rest of the Bradys hiked about yelling "Bobby! Cindy!" only to learn later that they had been befriended by an Indian boy who didn't want to tell his old fashioned Indian chief father that he wanted to be an astronaut rather than a regular Indian? Well, it was kind of like that. Minus the Indians, as far as I know. The rain helped, because there was a lot less activity on the street and it was quieter than usual. It's kind of scary skulking around people's yards in my neighborhood in the middle of the night yelling "Tilda!" Still, that's what needed to be done, and at one of the apartment houses down the street, we heard what sounded like a meowed response. Or was it an auditory "mirage"? (There have plenty of those over the past week, that's for sure.) It could have been a delusion, or somebody's pet inside one of the apartments, or it could even have been somebody else's cat trapped underneath. But eventually, astonishingly, Matilda's little face appeared behind one of the little screens at the base of the building. We had to cut her out, in the rain, making a Tilda-sized hole in the screen. She was bedraggled, scared, squirmy, and devilish hard to hang on to, but in the end we got her inside.

She is clearly traumatized and exhausted and jumpier than usual, but not injured physically, and it looks as though she will be all right.

Thanks so much to everyone who offered kind words, sympathy, and advice. It was very much appreciated. Everyone said not to give up too soon, and had stories about cats who came back after months or even years, and I'm so glad to have one of those stories of my own. I'll tell you one thing, though: if you're going to lose a cat around here, try to do it in Berkeley/Piedmont/Emeryville rather than Oakland. Berkeley Animal Care Services is a kinder, gentler shelter, in complete contrast (as in so many situations) to the squalid, nightmarish Oakland PD Animal Control Facility. It was, in fact, the Berkeley people who provided the tip about calling for her late at night and listening. It is obvious, I suppose, especially now, but I doubt it would have happened if they hadn't suggested it earlier that day.

Anyhow, I cannot begin to tell you how relieved and overjoyed I am to have her back. It looks as though we won't have to cancel Christmas after all.