Friday Cat Blogging

Henry.

An escape and concealment artist, Henry has disappeared at least a dozen times in nearly thirteen years. On four occasions, he has actually slipped out of our house undetected and gone missing for anywhere from two hours to five weeks; countless other times, he’s hid himself so well that I’ve been convinced he couldn’t possibly still be inside the house. I’ve combed the neighborhood more than a few times only to find him sitting at the top of the stairs when I return. He’s wormed into the crawlspace under the house, discovered a (previously unknown) cubbyhole in a cabinet right above the hot water boiler, and somehow nudged his way inside unused cupboards that were blocked at the time with heavy boxes. Where Henry is concerned, I spend a half my time worried that he’s escaped the house again and the other half wondering if he’s finally gotten himself stuck somehwere he can’t escape, like Fortunato in that short story by Poe. Finding him asleep on the bed is never unsatisfying.