where in the world is carmen?

Carmen has gone missing. She didn't slip out a door when I was coming or going; she was in bed with me at 1:30 or 2 when we heard a racket in the living room. Oh, lord, what has Miranda knocked over now? Sigh. Well, it's late, I'm tired, and it didn't sound like anything breaking; it'll wait till morning. Carmen didn't seem too curious either; she stayed curled up beside me for several more minutes before wandering off. Fifteen minutes or a half hour later there was another ruckus, this time in the studio, and a furry black shape came flying out of the room and shot into the living room. If a second furry black shape came hurtling out, I didn't see it, but I didn't think anything about it, either. That time I got up to see what was knocked over, but I didn't see anything alarming, so I closed the studio door to eliminate the race track effect, and went back to bed with my book. (For some reason I was having trouble getting to sleep. Wonder why?) I read some more. Time passed. Much time passed. No more sounds....at all. Nada. No kittens came to sit on the bed with me. It was so quiet for so long I finally had to get up and investigate. I had to do the kitty, kitty call to get Miranda to come out, but still no Carmen. I looked all over the house, under everything that had an opening under it, and behind everything else. No Carmen. Miranda was spooked as hell the whole time. She wouldn't go into the bedroom OR the studio but stood in the hall and peered into the rooms with her eyes as big as saucers, ready to flee at the slightest sound.

The only other possibility was that Carmen squeezed out an unscreened window that was only open about 3 inches and jumped to the ground from two and a half floors up, and she isn't even the adventurous one. I took the flashlight and went outside to look. No joy there either. Back inside, this time with the flashlight to better see a black cat in a dark corner. Nothing. I even opened a can of kitty treats, because we all know they are genetically programmed to respond to the sound of a can opening. STILL nothing. I've been looking now for two hours. It's nearly 5:30 but I'm not sleepy. I wondered if the sounds of normality (Mom typing on the keyboard) would lure her out of some mysterious hiding spot where she'd been driven by whatever calamity occurred in here, but no joy here either. I don't know what else to try. Back outside when it gets light, I guess.

I can't help but wonder if Miranda's being so spooked has to do with Carmen's absence, but I can't see how, unlesls Carmen is in here someplace. If she is, she's not uttering a sound even when I call, and she's in some place so small that I can't even imagine a half-grown cat being there.

How come when Timmy fell in the well (or whatever mischief he was up to on any given week), Lassie was always able to make someone understand, but Miranda just looks scared to death? Talk to me, cat! Aaargh.

where in the world is carmen?

Carmen has gone missing. She didn't slip out a door when I was coming or going; she was in bed with me at 1:30 or 2 when we heard a racket in the living room. Oh, lord, what has Miranda knocked over now? Sigh. Well, it's late, I'm tired, and it didn't sound like anything breaking; it'll wait till morning. Carmen didn't seem too curious either; she stayed curled up beside me for several more minutes before wandering off. Fifteen minutes or a half hour later there was another ruckus, this time in the studio, and a furry black shape came flying out of the room and shot into the living room. If a second furry black shape came hurtling out, I didn't see it, but I didn't think anything about it, either. That time I got up to see what was knocked over, but I didn't see anything alarming, so I closed the studio door to eliminate the race track effect, and went back to bed with my book. (For some reason I was having trouble getting to sleep. Wonder why?) I read some more. Time passed. Much time passed. No more sounds....at all. Nada. No kittens came to sit on the bed with me. It was so quiet for so long I finally had to get up and investigate. I had to do the kitty, kitty call to get Miranda to come out, but still no Carmen. I looked all over the house, under everything that had an opening under it, and behind everything else. No Carmen. Miranda was spooked as hell the whole time. She wouldn't go into the bedroom OR the studio but stood in the hall and peered into the rooms with her eyes as big as saucers, ready to flee at the slightest sound.

The only other possibility was that Carmen squeezed out an unscreened window that was only open about 3 inches and jumped to the ground from two and a half floors up, and she isn't even the adventurous one. I took the flashlight and went outside to look. No joy there either. Back inside, this time with the flashlight to better see a black cat in a dark corner. Nothing. I even opened a can of kitty treats, because we all know they are genetically programmed to respond to the sound of a can opening. STILL nothing. I've been looking now for two hours. It's nearly 5:30 but I'm not sleepy. I wondered if the sounds of normality (Mom typing on the keyboard) would lure her out of some mysterious hiding spot where she'd been driven by whatever calamity occurred in here, but no joy here either. I don't know what else to try. Back outside when it gets light, I guess.

I can't help but wonder if Miranda's being so spooked has to do with Carmen's absence, but I can't see how, unless Carmen is in here someplace. If she is, she's not uttering a sound even when I call, and she's in some place so small that I can't even imagine a half-grown cat being there.

How come when Timmy fell in the well (or whatever mischief he was up to on any given week), Lassie was always able to make someone understand, but Miranda just looks scared to death? Talk to me, cat! Aaargh.

still looking

It's light now and I've reconnoitered all around the building, with no luck. When house cats get out, they supposedly stay close to wherever they came out. I'm thinking, however, that if one of the local outdoor cats came across her, a chase probably ensued (I didn't hear a fight, so I'm thinking chase) and there's no telling where she might be. I did see another black cat and got very hopeful for a moment, but that one didn't have the white spot on the chest, and the fur was coarser. Friendly enough to let me pet it, though, so I could be sure. Miranda keeps looking for her in the apartment; I should watch to see if she goes to one particular place. She hasn't yet.

no poltergeists, no sky-diving cats!

Maybe I shouldn't rule out poltergeists; nothing else makes any sense either. But Carmen has come out of hiding. I may never know where she was, but when I walked in after my latest circuit outdoors, she was standing in the dining room doorway. Whew!

So, today I need to finish up my why-you-should-admit-me letter to the MLS dean. After three hours sleep this morning, how coherent do you think I'd be? Yeah, I thought so too. Another nap is in order.