What an idiot
I'm just not sure who.
Boe?
Maybe.
There is another candidate.
Boe is on huge antibiotics, big clavamox every 12 hours, on the assumption that the limp is a festering bite.
So he was due for a dose at 11pm, but couldn't be found.
I'd been trying to keep him in, what with the limp and all, but he shoved me out of the way and escaped.
And once he was out, there was no getting a hold on him, you just have to wait it out.
So I stay up, and it's midnight, it's 1am, 1:30, and he's still a no show.
Okay, sometimes he comes in around 4am and cuddles up in bed, so I put the pill in my PJ pocket and go to sleep.
8am, and no kitty.
So I get up and scour the neighborhood for nearly an hour, with special attention to crawl spaces and garages, calling in all directions.
No kitty.
I was actually on-line looking up the information for the Animal Shelter when they called.
Someone had "rescued" him.
A neighbor has evidently been feeding him for a while.
I had noticed he had become less diligent about showing up for meals, but assumed he was just being an obnoxious adolescent.
(And he was, but differently obnoxious.)
The neighbor assumed that because he ate her food he was an abandoned cat and needed it, rather than that he was being a brat and getting two dinners.
I gather this started pretty much as soon as Sisko and Molly moved in.
Maybe he was feeling a bit emotionally crowded by the new guys.
Or maybe, as a feral rescue, he thought the colony was getting crowded, and he should make sure there was enough food to go around.
Or maybe he is just plain a bratty cat.
The neighbor wasn't adopting him, only feeding him.
(Does the word opportunist come to mind? Bad kitty!)
The boy has severe trust issues, so he was in fact acting like a feral.
In any case, she noticed him limping, so she got a trap from Animal Services, caught him last night, and turned him in at the pound in the morning.
Which is why he wasn't coming home.
Being trained professionals at the shelter, they noticed the collar, the recently shaved belly, and the phone number, and deduced that perhaps he had a home.
They called us.
So the nice officer brought him back, with new chip in his shoulder, and a fresh lot of vaccines.
The boy is soooooo grounded.
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And I love how his markings are on his skin too.
(And his little tiny boy-kitty nipples are sweet.)
I wonder if his tummy feels cold though.
In the dictionary beside "opportunist", there is most definitely a picture of a cat. I thought it was one of my cats, but it could be Boe.
My guy.
Oh, and an extreme butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth expression.
(Except that it does.)
Glad he's home safe.
Bad Boe.
Tummy is like velvet.
Did they actually deliver Boe? That's service! If only the chip had GPS.
This is why I cannot have outdoor kittehs. I'd spend every hour they were out of sight worrying.
(I think there was perhaps some embarrasment concerning having helped trap a cat with evidence of recent medical work, a collar, and a phone number on it.)
It was a very nice lady, who ends up knowing the cat rescue lady who gave us Boe in the first place.
He is so busted.