Sunday, July 11, 2010

Cat Scratch Fever and One Less Life

Winston staring down his twin
NOT Winston! Don't be fooled... he's MEAN!


Sorry... this post is long, but it has a very happy ending.

As the title would imply, this post is about my furry friend Winston and his little misadventure from today... and last night. As the McLendon family was getting ready for a well deserved vacation, Winston was apparently planning his escape from our home. Apparently he's feeling a little smothered lately. He must have gotten out at around 9 pm as I was deflating all Claudia's beach toys in the backyard. His absence was not brought to my attention until precisely 7:30 am when Claudia started chanting "ca! ca!", peeping around, looking for Winston. At about 7:31, the search was launched. I suppose some cats enjoy going outside and their owners enjoy letting them outside. I do not. Winston's last outing resulted in a trip to the animal emergency clinic on 610 where someone wanted to charge me $2K to remove the layer of tar in which Winston had immersed himself after his rendezvous at the home construction site across the street.
The hunt ensues...
Never one to disappoint, this outing was no less thrilling. There are 3, count them, 3 black cats who live within a mile radius of our house.... a fun fact I discovered today. I tried to force the first one into my car. He treated me to an arm shredding and then his true owner ran out of the house shrieking at me. Not Winston. The second one had a pot belly, so I was able to quickly rule him out. Not Winston. The third one was tricky. He looked just like Winston ... and he conveniently scurried underneath a neighbor's house. My dear neighbor spoke no English, but was kind enough to let the hysterical white lady crawl under the house in an attempt to rescue "el gato negro." I emerged scraped, bloody and empty handed. Not Winston.
Desperation sets in...
After a day of wandering around my neighborhood, screaming "Winstoooonnn!" and harassing any neighbor kind enough to stop, I was hopeless and sunburned. I did what any logical person would do next... had a good cry in a stranger's driveway & called my mom. She and Vernon came over immediately. I'll cut to the chase now. After seven hours of me roaming the streets, Mom & Vernon come over, make a search of the street and discover Winston hissing up a storm in the little alleyway beside our house. Little furball decided to come home. I'm happy to report that our vacation was saved and that Winston is resting up after his street adventure. Enjoy these pics of just ONE of Winston's three neighborhood doppelgangers.
My Winnie is home!

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