An Exciting Email
When we had visited Happy Tails in January, Melinie diLuck, the Director, had introduced me to a volunteer who had a litter of kittens which included two pale orange boys, almost ready for adoption, but when I didn't hear anymore for several weeks, I assumed they had all been adopted. Late in February I received an email that the kittens were ready. I spoke to the volunteer and by phone and email, we made arrangements to meet at Happy Tails the following Saturday, so I could see the kittens and perhaps bring home one or two of them.

That week was a frenzy of activity as we kitten-proofed one small area of the house (our house is rambling, with many hazards), made shopping lists, and visited pet stores, lists in hand. Kittens were in my thoughts all day and at night I literally dreamed kittens. At the same time, I spent a lot of time thinking about Shannon; talking to him and asking forgiveness for being so willing to let another marmelade boy into my heart.

Saturday morning came and I was up at 5:00, making a list of things we needed to bring, and doing last-minute email management. We had agreed to meet at 1:30 and planned on leaving at 10:00 to allow enough time to stop for breakfast in Sacramento. Everything was a go.

Fate Steps in, in the Form of Bubba
Around 7:00, Asa asked me if I had seen Bubba. He had let him out around the time I got up. Usually, Bubba is back at the door within ten minutes, but he hadn't come when Asa called him. Fifteen minutes later, Asa and Lance (our adult son) were scouring the neighborhood looking for the cat. I waited with that leaden-heart feeling everyone will recognize who has been through this kind of experience. And waited. After what seemed like hours, Asa returned and said he "thought" he had seen Bubba under a wooden walkway on a neighbor's deck. The neighbor told him he had seen a gray cat under there earlier, and while they were talking, he said "There he is now!" All Asa saw was a gray flash of fur, and the cat disappeared again.

For the next two hours, Asa and Lance continued searching the neighborhood. We live on a cul-de-sac surrounded by water, so there is no easy access to back yards, which in many cases are just decks cantilevered over river rock. I finally had to make the phone call I had dreaded; that we were going to have to cancel the kitten meeting. By that time I was imagining the worst, and told the volunteer that we were going to hold off for a few weeks and not to save any kittens for us.

As I was printing out flyers with Bubba's photo and description, the men finally located Bubba, under the crawl space of the same house where he had been seen before. The open vent hole he had crawled through was suddenly too small for him to get back through, and Asa spent an hour lying in the dirt next to the house, whistling the Wizard of Oz theme (which never fails to get Bubba's attention) to entice him out.

They both came home, dusty and tired. Later, we discussed the possibility that Bubba had known exactly what was on our agenda that day, and used his disappearing act to keep us home, since it was so out of character for him.

Bubba smiled smugly and settled down for a wash and a snooze. Yes, we still know who's boss around here.