Our household has been blessed with five rescued felines. One is now missing. We cannot be sure we have seen her in more than 24 hours. Leaves on the current has been looking for her for about 8 hours.
Our cats have their claws, but other than one we take out on lead they do not go outside.
The one that is missing has disappeared on us before, taking a long sleep for around about 6 hours and then reappearing. Nothing this long - remember, we cannot remember seeing her in more than 24 hours.
There is more.
Angelica is one of three cats we adopted at the same cat fair. We have her sister as well.
Angelica (whom we often call "Biddle") is sweet and loving. She is not intellectually the sharpest knife in our cat drawer. She is also, as near as we can determine, near-sighted: she is often hesitant to jump up or down, and will rock back and forth trying to determine if it is safe.
Since Leaves and I got together in 1974 we have been through pet deaths, including the cat with which she had grown up. We have since we moved to DC said goodbye to Cedric (cat), Pele (a cat who got ill way too soon), Nelson (cat), Wellington (Cat) and Elspeth (Sheltie). But we got to say goodbye.
Right now our hearts are shattered. We hope against hope that she is hiding someplace in the house but as the hours pass hope begins to fade. We have put out a notice and her picture to the neighbors, but she can be a bit shy.
The favor is offered in Quaker terminology - that you hold us "in the light" - all of us, Leaves, me, our other four cats (who know we are upset, and thus we cannot tell if they know something else is wrong), and most of all our darling Angelica.
We hope and pray that she will come back to us, unharmed, whether she is somewhere in the house or somehow she got out.