I thought things were bad enough Friday, when my SO and I were rear-ended
while stopped at a red light by a car traveling at 30 mph.  That was nothing
compared to what has followed.
 
Saturday night I had a few friends over for a game of Scrabble.  My Zoe has
free run of the house, and hung out with the crowd for a while.  Midway
through the game, she took off for my bedroom, where she always sleeps.
That's the last I have seen of her.
 
It seems that as one of my friends left, she slipped out the door.  It's
almost incredulous to me that she was able to do so.  I live in a tiny
apartment, and I've never had any problems thwarting her escape attempts.
Yet, somehow she escaped unnoticed by any of us (there wasn't any alcohol
involved, so our senses were in no way dulled).  We all just assumed she was
asleep.
 
This may sound silly, but that night I dreamt that I had found Zoe's
lifeless body on my coffee table.  I don't think it was anything psychic.
Zoe usually sleeps at the foot of my bed at least part of the night, and I
must have subconsciously noticed her gone, thus prompting the nightmare.
Yet, I awoke Sunday quite disturbed (it was about 9 a.m.).
 
Within the hour, I started noticing her absence.  She didn't scratch on the
bathroom door when I took my shower.  She didn't join me for my morning
scales on the piano (she loves to sit by me when I play the piano).  I
half-heartedly looked in all her hiding places, and not finding her, I just
thought she'd found a new sleeping corner.  About noon, I had already told
my SO (who was visiting her mother) over the phone about my dream, and I
could feel panic rising in me.  I took a walk around my apartment complex
looking for Zoe or any sign of her.  Nothing.  I went back to the apartment
and called the people who had been over the night before to ask if they had
noticed her slipping out.  They hadn't.
 
I then literally turned my apartment inside out looking for her.  I slit the
bed springs open with a knife, to see if she had hid in there.  I
methodically looked over every inch of the apartment trying to find her.  I
covered up her food bowl with n envelope so I would know if she approached
it.  I checked her litter box, to see if she had used it.
 
Around 3 p.m., I decided she was definitely not in my apartment.  My head
swam in self-disgust and anguish.  I had failed her!  She meant the world to
me -- was literally the most stable and reliable part of my life -- and now
she was gone!  I called a friend and we started looking all over the
immediate area around the apartment and going door to door.  My friend
called it quits around 10 p.m.  I went home, called the local police, animal
shelter pet shops and animal hospitals, and asked them to call me if they
heard anything.  I whipped up some flyers and put them on every door,
telephone pole, pay phone, and storefront window within 1/4 mile of my
apartment.  I bought a flashlight and kept looking until 3:30 a.m.  She had
been out in the cold over 24 hours, and we're having nasty cold, wet weather
here in northern Illinois.  I didn't want to go home.  I thought, "Well, if
she's out in the cold, how can I go into a nice, warm apartment?" I thought
the same about food, and refused to eat until 8 p.m.  Monday when my SO
forced me to eat something.  I didn't think I could keep it down, but I
somehow did.
 
Monday I was up at 8 a.m. and ten minutes I was looking again.  I even
skipped the Bulls game.  Somehow, that was no longer important.  I got a
call early afternoon from someone saying they had seen her late Saturday
night.  At least I knew for sure that she was out, and not dead in my
apartment (another thought that quickly brought me near panic).  Also, it
allowed me to concentrate my search in smaller area.  Still, I've had no
luck.
 
I don't think she could've survived this long in this weather (although
there are several barns in the area at which she could've found shelter --
all of which I checked and left food in).  Also, we have a large population
of stray cats and raccoons running around, which could easily tear her to
shreds.  She's also extremely picky about her food, though I'm hoping some
sort of survival instinct takes over if she's hungry enough.
 
My only hope is that she was found by someone, and that person will try to
turn her Tuesday when the holiday weekend is over, or will see one of my
flyers.  I'm also putting out classified ads in our local papers.  I'm at
wits ends.  I haven't slept, have hardly eaten, and have forgotten the world
around me (like the paper I have due for a class tomorrow).  I feel sick, I
feel like I let Zoe down.  I see her toys lying around and the hole in my
gut gets bigger.  This is worse than losing your fuzzie to natural causes.
That's mother nature taking back what she graciously lent us.  Zoe was only
1 1/2 years old.  Still had a great life ahead of her.  Yet, I feel that my
irresponsibility led to her predicament.  I hope someone found her, and she
is safe.  I desperately hope so.  But still, remembering my dream, I can't
help but be pessimistic.
 
I apologize for the length.  Some of you may judge me harshly for my
irresponsibility, but rest asured, you can never approach the harshness by
which I judge myself.  I though writing this would make me feel better, but
it hasn't.
 
Just give your fuzzies an extra hug tonight. God knows I wish I could.
 
        Markos and .... (sigh)
[Posted in FML issue 1583]