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]