My friend Shelli was living with her cat-allergic mother and needed someone to take care of her cat until she was once again in her own place. I was more than willing, in fact I campaigned for the honor. I’d met Hippo years before and fell in love with her instantly. She is the prettiest, softest, sweetest cat I’ve ever seen.
So when Shelli’s first home for Hippo fell through because of a lack of fondness vis-a-vis Hippo and the host’s other cats, I leapt at the chance to bring her home and hoped my cats Thwing and Amber would behave themselves.
They did. In fact, Hippo took to following our cat Amber around like she was her big sister, and they played together (albeit with a certain grudging attitude from Amber, who would generally end the play session by walking away meowing something that sounded like “Darn kids.”) And I enjoyed having Hippo around, especially when the lockdown started and she would sit with me on the sofa as I did my day job from home. But all good things must come to an end. Shelli finally had her own place and it was time for Hippo to reunite with her.
A few weeks before our planned departure date for Hippo, my niece had to leave our house and go into foster care, as my older sister (who lives with us) lost custody. I didn’t want Jennifer to miss saying good-bye to Hippo! So I arranged to stop by the day we took Hippo back to Shelli so that Jennifer could say goodbye.
Because of Covid, we couldn’t go into the house, so the goodbyes would be outdoor. I thought it was a shame Jennifer would only see Hippo in a carrier, but John, quite the boyscout with knots, offered to make a rope leash so that we could hold on to Hippo while Jennifer got to hold her.
This was our big mistake. See, we tied the rope to Hippo’s collar, which has a break-away release for safety. The second Jennifer unzipped Hippo’s carrier, though she had a strong hold on the leash, Hippo leaped away and her break-away collar broke away.
We chased her, and after several frantic minutes I found her under a bush two houses away. We surrounded the bush and I reached for her. She ran toward my husband — and over his arms and off, across the street and under our parked car.
We ran there, and surrounded the car. A young man who was doing a construction job in front of one of the houses joined us. Hippo dashed away again, between two houses.
This would be the last we would see of her for eight days.
We searched for hours. I ran right into the back yards and even into garages while Brian hurried to knock on doors and politely ask permission for what I was already doing. We got the neighbors all looking. I carried Hippo’s collar and the rope and a baggie of treats and dropped her collar somewhere in a backyard.
We searched until dark. It felt absolutely awful to leave. My friend had entrusted me with her precious fur baby and I had failed to protect her! My poor niece, who is going through so much, now has to worry about the cat!
We searched for things we could do. We called the shelters and we called various online pet-finding groups. We signed up for apps and posted to Facebook and NextDoor. We came back every day and searched. Twice on Sunday. We bought flashlights to search at night. We made posters and fliers and distributed them throughout the neighborhood.
We started a google docs with numbers to call and a schedule — Me, Brian and John would go, two at a time, every single day and search different sub-sections of the neighborhood. We jiggled treats and strings and called for Hippo up and down the streets in all weather.
Remember that microburst hail storm that delayed the Browns game? We were out looking for Hippo during it.
We also went to the APL and rented a humane cage trap. This we set up in the garage of the house Jennifer is staying at. We lined the cage with towels Hippo had slept on. I put her favorite toy next to it, and her litter box, filled with dirty litter I ran home to collect. I also scraped Hippo fluff off the sofa and the cat tree and sprinkled the cottony puffs of hair into the flower boxes and front garden of the house, so that, hopefully, the place would smell like home territory.
Guys, I didn’t sleep. I didn’t write. I barely showered or read books. I know part of it is all the EVERYTHING ELSE going on, but this cat disappearing wrecked me completely.
We got a few false alarms from kind neighbors who had heard the alert and saw stray cats in their yards or garages.
Then last night, Jennifer called, “Hippo is in the cage,” she said.
“What?”
“Hippo is in the cage,” she repeated, and I could hear Hippo’s distinctive mews behind her, almost squeaks. She sounded like she was pacing, trying to find a way out of her trap.
“We’re on our way,” I said.
The story is more dramatic … the cage trap had previously trapped two strays — one of them twice — who were not Hippo. A web camera was aimed at it and Jennifer and her guardians had seen a cat that looked like Hippo wander into the garage and sniff the cage but not go in. They huddled around a cell phone watching as Hippo casually explored the garage. She even went IN the cage and then wandered back out without triggering it.
The garage door was open just a foot, high enough for a cat to get in. When Hippo wandered under the car in the garage, they closed the garage door. They weren’t sure she WAS Hippo 100%, but they had her trapped in the garage. Can you imagine these frantic people all glued to the screen while this cat just does not care?
Eventually, she went in the trap far enough to trigger it, and they ran out and Jennifer confirmed Hippo’s identity.
Hippo is now safe and sound with Shelli. We drove her straight home last night rather than risk ever letting her out of a carrier!
She reacted well to the drive, mostly sleeping, and when she got to Shelli’s house she explored the place without hurry, like she already was at home.
I’m very grateful Hippo was a part of my life, and that she’s safe and with her human.
