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Bruce has gone walkabout

May 27, 2021

Only yesterday I got in touch with the RSPCA lady who brought him to me and said “Let me keep him.”

I paid the charity some cash after some fiddling with my bank’s computers saying I hadn’t got the account name right and she said she’d come around Saturday to finish off the paperwork and re-register his microchip to my name and address.

And at about two thirty just after that I got a delivery from Amazon I wasn’t expecting until tomorrow and what with fiddling about with them wanting a security code (they’d never done that before) maybe that was when he slipped out. Or maybe it was later when I was sweating away at the computer working on last night’s game. I’d had the French windows open, you see, to let some air into the flat. I’d drawn the screen door across to keep him safe and indoors and it was still in place when I closed the French windows.

It wasn’t until several hours later that it registered I hadn’t seen or heard anything from him for a while.

I didn’t instantly start worrying because he had vanished once before, also when I had opened the French windows. I went into a panic then and went searching the nearby streets. And I got back posted his details on a missing pets site reported the loss to the RSPCA lady… And then he strolled out from behind some furniture where I’d swear I’d looked as cool as a cucumber and I had to make apologies all round.

A case of the Cat Who Cried Wolf, I fear.

But he didn’t come out from behind anywhere, not even though I left out food for him so I think this time he managed to slip through the screen door somehow or I failed to keep it secure the whole time. My forgetfulness has been getting worse. It looks as though I am going to have to say that if he doesn’t come back this is it for me living with a cat at least until the fabulous day I somehow find enough money to move to a house where I can have a cat who can move from indoors to out without a care. Doesn’t seem likely, I must say.

He had been growing more affectionate with me but I don’t think he was getting more reconciled to being kept confined. He would miaow for no clear reason and you should have heard the noise he made when he spotted another cat through the French windows, lurking near his territory! He wanted to be out there and showing them what’s what and who’s who.

Maybe he’ll be safe for a while. But he’s FIV+ and suddenly in a part of the world he knows nothing of.

So his name and photo is on websites and on a notice (see illustration) outside my flat. Let me know if you see a black cat in the vicinity of High Wycombe let me know.

I shall go now and try to follow the advice the RSPCA lady gave and try not to despise myself. Any more than I already do, I mean.


And he’s back.

Either that or he never left, it’s hard to tell.

I eventually went out to dump some stuff in the bins at the back and when I got back there he was having scoffed the food left out for him and looking obscenely pleased with himself. He dashed out the French windows and I went and got a sheet that I could throw over him (he’s faster than me) and went out to look for him around the block of flats. No sign, so I went back in… and there he was emerging from the bedroom. This time I managed to get the French windows shut. He prowled about demanded some attention, jumped up on my lap and peed on me.

What is hard to figure out is: was he out all night playing the Wild Rover (he doesn’t appear to have any injuries) or had he hidden in the flat all through last night and into today because he wanted to put me in my place or just to appeal to his evil feline sense of humour.

Yes, I know I’m anthropomorphising. You try living with a cat, see what it does to you.

I may have to take drink tonight…. I’m just going to pop out and take the ‘missing cat’ notice down. I’ll keep it on the computer. He may try to pull this again.

  1. Chorlton Voice permalink

    Are you sure there is nowhere you could have shut him in? A wardrobe, for example? A kitchen cupboard. Mind, you’d hear him miaow if that happened. I am sure he will return.

    • It’s really not that big a flat.

      I’ve looked in all the cupboards and other enclosed places and he hasn’t been shy about making his feelings felt. If he’s in the flat… well, he can’t be conscious and well, that’s for sure.

      I’m less sure but I’m certain his getting out is my fault.

    • And see update.

  2. Chris Bell permalink

    I have my fingers crossed for his return. Not a lot I can do apart from well-wishes and a strong intention for both of you, but for what those are worth you both have them.

    Cats are not stupid, and when he realises that the food is only In There and not Out Here he may well decide that he was better off where he was. Be prepared for irritable mewing about the poor quality of the service!

    • Thanks for the good wishes and yes, if his memory and attention span are up to it he may well decide that crabbed, cabined and confined though it is this is a lush gaff.

      But while he may work that out I’m less convinced of his ability to work out how to get home. He’s never been out in the streets hereabouts before and he’s a cat, not a homing pigeon.

      Still, I shall try to remain an optimist. To some extent.

  3. Chris Bell permalink

    I have to admit I had thought only of peevish noises, not pee.

  4. He is a Bad Cat and should (but will not) be ashamed of himself.

  5. Mike, I’m so relieved for you. The 40+ hours when Pidge was missing were among the wretchedest of my life.
    Vinegar for the trousis.
    The only other feline Bruce I know is invariably referred to as Wee Mad Bruce, and further styled TDCIB (The Densest Cat In Britain). Come to think of it, he pees as commentary too…
    I think you are entitled both to drink and to anthropomorphise as much as you care to, this evening.

  6. dpbcse6 permalink

    It’s Gus, btw. Need to hit WordPress wivva spanner

  7. Gus permalink

    I am so pleased he is back. It must have been miserable for you. The 40-odd hours one of mine was missing not long after being introduced to Outside were among the wretchedest of my life.
    Vinegar for the trousis.
    The only other feline I know who shares his name is always referred to as Wee Mad Bruce and further styled TDCIB (The Densest Cat In Britain). He pees by way of commentary on occasion too.

    Hurrah for a Present Bruce!


    • He’s no wee (though he did wee on me): he’s a hefty young fellow. I think his last set of servants bribed him with treats. He’s not dense either. Experience of the past month shows he’s smarter than me.

      I would not be so worried if he didn’t have FIV+. He might not meet with another cat and catch something from them that will hit his compromised immune system. But he might. And he well might bite the other cat. He bites me…

      • Biting is just a way of showing love. (Don’t try this one in court.)

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