On Sunday, the cats helped Rich do our taxes. They were very proud of their work.

Two walls in our family room now have three-inch holes in the drywall every few feet. Why? Escape routes for mice? No. The latest in wall design? No. Holes in which to insert a mirror and see whether a small Russian Blue cat is wedged in the wall? Yes.

On Thursday morning, around 6:15, I put Garcie in the papasan chair in our family room. A little over an hour later, Rich went downstairs to bring Gracie upstairs for breakfast. She was nowhere to be found. Throughout the day, every hour or so, he’d look for her, hoping that she’d emerge from her hiding spot. No luck.

Upset with Rich’s ability to find the little rascal, I left work early to search every inch of the house, including tipping over our sofas and bed, checking in all the cupboards, looking behind bookshelves and on top of the books, and crawling around on my back to see if there were any holes in the walls (under cupboards and kitchen appliances. No luck.

After an hour of searching, I was frantic. When Rich commented that she could have jumped on top of our stacked washer and dryer, pushed up the plastic over the florescent fixture then climbed into the attic, my angst turned to hysteria. I was convinced that she’d fallen down a wall and was trapped with no way to climb back up.

Rich decided to do an experiment where he placed a piece of drywall along side Pu’Yi then used a stud locator to see whether the instrument could detect the presence of a body, just as it does for a piece of wood. It worked, which gave me some hope that we could definitively determine if Gracie was trapped in a wall.

The problem was that the findings were inconclusive and I was horrified by the idea of Gracie being trapped in a wall and slowly starving to death. Rich decided to ease my torment by drilled holes in the wall then use a mirror to see if the cat was there.

No luck. Devastated, I took two sleeping pills then climbed under the covers. Rich joined me. As soon as we settled down, we heard some noises, but decided not to investigate. Around 3 a.m. Rich nudged me awake. Gracie was on top of the dresser. As soon as we sat up, she jumped on the floor and darted out of the bedroom.

In our birthday suits we followed her down the hallway. I spotted her on top of a corner cabinet in our living room. Earlier, we had both looked behind the cabinet several times, including opening the cabinet doors.

With a flashlight in hand, Rich peeked behind the cabinet and this time, noticed an itty-bitty tail. The cabinet has a small, open space that is only accessible from the back. There’s no doubt that Gracie had been hiding there all day… and had no intention of coming out.

After Rich pulling her out from her hiding space, we put her in bed with us and closed the bedroom door. We weren’t going to chance having her disappear once again!

The picture above was taken this morning. Pu’Yi likes young women. I’m not sure that Gracie is necessarily amore with an older man.

I’ve been tormenting Rich for months about getting another cat since I feel he’s unduly influenced the cats who now refer to me as “the pesky person who leaves in the morning and returns at night.” Because Rich works from home, he has a monopoly on the cats’ affections (and demands).

While I wanted another cat, I knew it was unrealistic with our already having six sets of beady yellow, green and blue eyes. Nevertheless, I’m always on the lookout for a cat (or kitten) in need. Last Saturday, we went to the PetSmart in Burlington (next to Mount Vernon) to purchase bird food. S.P.O.T. (Saving Pets One at a Time) was having an adoption event.

In one of the cages was a small Russian Blue cat. I’d had a Russian Blue as a child whose name was Celina so I recognized the breed immediately. The cat that was up for adoption was exquisite with deep blue-gray fur, silver muzzle, round golden eyes, slender body, and angular face.

I trotted over to Rich to “test” the idea of getting another cat and he was surprisingly amenable. His first comment was, “It’s so gray.”

“And,” I probed.

An older man – Dick Willson — was eager to answer our questions about the cat because he and his wife were its foster parents. They’d named the cat Sassy. She was one of four kittens that were dropped off by the owner. According to Dick, the kittens were very feisty and he had to handle them with welder gloves. Under his care, they became very loving animals. 

After we both held Sassy, we decided to adopt her! Rich, however, decided to rename her Gracie because “she’s so gray.”

Her first few days have been a bit traumatic. First, she had to be in the car from Mount Vernon to Kirkland; also in the car was Zephyra and Jujube who we took to Mount Vernon on Friday night. And once home, Gracie met the rest of the pride: Pu’Yi, Lunetta, Ariel Anne, and Goldakevtch.

Saturday morning, we decided to lock her downstairs in the family and laundry room with Pu’Yi and Goldakevtch so she could explore without Jujube pestering her. We went downstairs a few hours later and she was nowhere to be found, but I’d heard shuffling sounds from behind the bar refrigerator. We pulled it out and there was a small hole in the wall…

Happily, Rich was able to use a small saw to quickly cut a hole in the drywall to extract her. While he patched up the wall, I put her in a Papasan chair with Pu’Yi, who softly hissed then consented to snuggling with her. Pu’Yi likes young women!

It’s going to take another week or so until Gracie is comfortable around all of the cats. Fortunately, the old ladies – Ariel Anne and Goldakevtch – and Pu’Yi are used to other cats. Zephyra is very mellow. Lunetta is afraid of her own shadow so she’ll snarl at anything that even looks at her. And Jujube… half the time he’s scared of Gracie and other half he thinks she’s a play toy.

This year, Pu’Yi, my wonderful silver-point Siamese puppy-cat wanted to participate in Halloween. The obvious costume was an angel. Here he is with his wings.

When it got dark outside, I put him on a leash and sat on our front steps with a bowl of candy waiting for tricker-treaters. I could hear some children’s voices, but none appeared. So we waited and WAITED!

After 15 minutes, it started to drizzle, which turned into a rain. Pu’Yi wasn’t pleased and I was concerned that his wings would start to fall apart… even though they were made from white duck feather.

Of course, Pu’Yi was thrilled to go back into the house and more pressing, remove his wings. He spent the rest of the night avoiding me until bedtime, when he and the rest of the cats got to roam the house because Rich was away in Vancouver, Washington helping his son, Chris move.

Usually, the cats are locked in our family room because Rich can’t sleep with them walking over him or sleeping on his feet.

If you’re curious, Pu’Yi is the only cat I’d "dare" put wings on. Rich’s wild boy Jujube would have run frantically through the house until the wings ripped or fell off. Ariel, Goldakevtch, and Lunetta would have gnawed and scratched, making it impossible to tie on the wings. And little Zephyra would have been too squirmy. She’s a very tolerant and sweet cat, but doesn’t like to be held and her fur is so soft that she easily slips out of one’s hands.