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Last night I was devastated, this morning I was sad but had already started planning our new catless life.  It included curtains, new sofas, plants, fresh flowers, hair-free clothing and a multitude of other things.

I was sitting at work at 10am wondering if I should have Xander phone and check on the cats to see how they are settling in.   I decided against it though because if something was wrong I’d just get all upset again.

Turns out I didn’t have to, he called me a few minutes later to tell me that the shelter had phoned him.   Their exact words…?

WE CANNOT DO ANYTHING WITH THIS CAT, HE ESCAPED AND BROKE LOOSE FROM THE ROOM AND IS TERRORIZING THE PLACE.  WE CANNOT FEED THE OTHER CATS BECAUSE WE CAN’T GET IN THE ROOM.  YOU MUST COME AND GET HIM!!

In case you are wondering who we are talking about.  It’s Spencer the Devil Cat who does things like drink out of the toilet, climb into the turtle tanks, and pull the doors off the hinges.  Our very own red-headed stepchild and demon cat from hell.  Why did we ever think, even for a second, that he would go easy.

A cat that usually looks like this at home…

… meaning a total lazy fob who does nothing but lay around waiting to be pet or fed (when he’s not doing that other annoying but harmless stuff).  Turned into this at the shelter…

… a teeth baring, hissing, screaming MURDERDEATHKILL feline hellion.

Yeah, you aren’t misunderstanding.  These people who deal with all sorts of dogs and cats, day in and day out, year after year, could not handle my big fat lazy cat!  Wait, my big, fat, lazy SUPER FREAKIN INTELLIGENT cat.  I mean he managed to get his way well enough, didn’t he?

Xander came and picked me up at work because we weren’t sure if he’d be able to sort Spencer out on his own (Spencer was mine for years before he was Xander’s so chances were he’d calm down better for me) and we went to the shelter.   It wasn’t long after we got there that we heard Spencer freaking out.

He had escaped from them and was in a small room where they kept the quarantined cats who hadn’t had their shots yet.   When I opened the door I saw nothing but teeth and flailing paws.   I guess he didn’t recognize me… or maybe he did and was giving me my due for putting him there in the first place.

It took me a while to calm him down.  They kept warning me not to let him out because he’d attack me and claw my eyes out and stuff and I was like Pfft, people this is Spencer, I know this cat!  Inside I was starting to wonder who the hell they had working there, I mean have these people not ever dealt with a cat who was afraid before?

Long story short, they told us he had to go… and clearly that meant Salem was coming too.   After some coaxing I got Spencer to calm down and come out of the room and when I put his carrier on the floor he walked straight into it.   I guess he figured it was about time.

When we arrived back home Xander and I were both completely frazzled.   It had been an emotional 24 hours for me and first I had to deal with losing my cats, but now I had to deal with losing all my dreams of non-cat life… because clearly the world is just telling us that we are meant to own them forever.  The cats, on the other hand, were just fine!   They walked out of their carriers and into the kitchen where their food dishes usually are.  Spencer gave a meow and a look that said ‘Ok so now that we have that nonsense out of the way, are you gonna feed me or what, ffs!’.   It was just business as usual for them.

Can you believe all of this?  I am at the point now where I can’t help but laugh.  I spent years mulling over the idea of trying to rehome them and when I finally get up the nerve they aren’t even gone 24 hours.

I have NEVER heard of a shelter calling the previous owners and telling them to take their pet back.  Of course, if it was ever going to happen it was going to be with me and Spencer.  I should have seen it coming.   Now we are trying to think of ways to make cat life easier.  We’ve started with a bigger litter box for the balcony and a new 2000 watt vacuum!  THANK GOD we got all our money back from the shelter.

So that’s it… as a co-worker of my mother said (or sang, rather)…

THE CAT CAME BACK…. THE VERY NEXT DAY!