I had just finished that last post when our doorbell rang. Our expat upstairs neighbors are leaving the country for good in a few days. The movers came today to pack up all their stuff, but apparently their cat wasn't on board with what's happening. It jumped off their balcony tonight.
By the time they rang our doorbell, they were pretty frantic. The woman asked to check our balcony, while her husband ran downstairs to the yard below us. We were calling the cat's name, and checking in bushes, and listening for dying cat noises.
In a rare stroke of, "If I were a cat, and therefore a jerk, where would I hide if I wanted to really screw everyone over?" I decided to open our side window and check the ledge outside the dining room. There was the cat. It was freaked. Our neighbor crawled onto the ledge, and coaxed the cat inside. Once it got inside, it went nuts. It bolted around the house, refusing to be captured. That thing is really attached to Greece. Our neighbor was finally able to grab the cat, and her husband, who ran up the stairs, helped her wrestle it back to their apartment.
I'm so happy they found their cat. My animal is my surrogate child. I know how terrified I'd feel if she bolted in the night (Especially off a balcony. I don't think dogs can stick that landing). Cats are weird. When we move, Bella clings to my side like one of those fabric softener sheets that you unknowingly carry around on your pants all day because you pulled them straight out of the dryer and threw them on without looking very closely. But cats, for some reason, decide to vent their terror by throwing themselves out the window and forcing you to face down the possibility of losing them forever.
They're jerks. Plain and simple cat jerks.