wowee

Here it is, not even 10 AM yet, and I have the stupid paper done. I've even re-read it. Well, okay, I read it on the monitor-- there still might be stuff crop up when I read it in person, so to speak. Still, things are looking good. I'm printing right now.

As soon as I'm done printing and stapling I should probably go cat hunting, though it is not with any joy that I approach this task. You see, I was changing the litter this morning, and there was a grocery bag lying on the floor, and Miranda wandered by and managed somehow to get her head stuck through one of the hand holds. She HATES the way they rustle, or seems to be scared of it, anyway, but still will poke around when they're on the floor-- I guess like kids like to tell ghost stories to scare themselves. Anyway, once the Dread Grocery Bag Monster got her, she took off so fast I couldn't get it off her. She raced all over the place at top speed; I've never seen any cat move so fast. She went to ground in the studio behind a dresser that is pulled out from the wall a bit; still too close for ME to get back there, of course. Whose bright idea was that? That was two and a half hours ago. Most of that time she has been motionless so as to avoid scaring herself to death, but periodically she rustles a bit, and then a bit more, and then she gets so terrified that she comes flying out and does a few more laps around the house before she hides again. I have no idea how I'm going to get it off her. I don't want to try to come toward her from the front because she'll feel cornerned and then things will get REALLY ugly. Won't it just be wonderful to cat-claw marks on my face and down my back? When she's out, though, she's running. I don't have any idea how this is going to be resolved. While she might be able to figure out how to extricate herself from some other material, the rustle has her so terrified she's operating purely from her lizard brain. I'm not really worried about her strangling or choking because the hole is too big for that; it's way down on her chest and not around her neck. And I am sure I am going to kitty hell because I get the giggles thinking about it--not the terrified part, but the physical result of racing at full speed with the grocery bag flying behind her like Superman's cape.

???

Well, the excitement may be over. I still haven't seen Miranda but I managed to get behind the dresser enough to grab a grcoery bag sticking out from underneath.... and she wasn't in it. It was much ripped and clawed, though, so I'm pretty sure It's The One. Carmen was in the vicinity and was also pretty spooked, but I never even saw Miranda. I suspect she's still under the dresser, hiding from the trauma if nothing else. I hope that's all.

So now I have a couple of hours to spend on whatever I want before I go to class. Like maybe dishes. Not enough time for laundry, thank god. Tomorrow, maybe. Perhaps I might reward myself with a little light fiction, and do dishes after I return from class. Yeah. Maybe Miranda will calm down enough to come out.

where's miranda?

I have no idea where that cat is. Just as I was walking out the door to go to class, she came flying out from where she'd been hiding with the grocery bag still around her, made a couple of mad dashes through the place, and vanished again. When I got home from class, the other two cats were walking around as if on eggshells, so she's probably made at least one more swing through while I was gone. I thought she was hiding under the dresser and finally managed to get in a position to see underneath it-- no Miranda. I have put kitty treats in a small bowl and walked through the entire place, talking quietly to her, making the clicking noise that usually brings her running, making scraping noises on the bowl-- everything I could think of to get at least a peep out of her. Nothing. This could be an exciting night, with her making periodic rampages. Sooner or later the bag will get ripped apart enough to come off, but till then.... much excitement, I'm sure. Poor traumatized Miranda.

Oh, and I got my third final paper turned in. I have one more session of Preservation to attend, but nothing due there; a final paper and final exam in Archives and I'm done for the semester. Yay, me.

found!

I've been periodically making little tours of the place, talking to Miranda, hoping she'd do something to let me know where she was. This is not a time you want to have a cat that doesn't talk, believe me. Sometimes I'd hear a teeny little meep, but I could never pin it down. It sounded like it was coming from the front hall closet, but I'd go there and talk to her and look for her, and move the coats and such, to no avail. I had gone to bed and was reading, and Carmen kept looking toward the LR, all alert, but I couldn't hear anything. Finally decided to try again. This time when I talked to her I kept hearing the little meeps. I'd talk and wait a minute, and there'd be another meep. Back to the closet. I talked some more, and waited. Yep, the closet. There are boxes, and she couldn't be IN them because they were taped shut. I moved the coats again and there, wedged between the boxes and the wall, was Miranda. The bag had slipped down to pin her front legs; between that and the boxes, she was pinned in so tightly I had no trouble pulling the bag off and lifting her out. There was absolutely not room there for an adult cat. Cats could teach physicists a thing or two about compression of matter into an impossibly small space. Never mind Schroedinger; even if they opened the box, the damn cat would probably be hidden in the corner and they'd never see it. Miranda has now had her kitty treat-- poor baby was near death from starvation after 15 hours with no food. We should be good for the night now. Ta, all.