Yeah. My doorbell rang. At least it didn’t ring when I was in the middle of changing out of bizcaz into raggedy old KW clothes because, unlike a long-time friend of mine, I do not answer the door in my underwear. If you know me well, you can probably guess how happy I was about hearing the doorbell. I had the big wooden door open because I like having light come through the glass outer door. So whoever was out there knew someone was home. Although I suppose I could’ve been out in the back yard moving my 10 rocks a day. Or not… I steeled myself to deal with a solicitor.

It was neither. Well, actually it *was* a solicitor of sorts. But since I had to look waaaayyyy down to see one of the solicitors, an uber-cute two-year-old girl, I softened just a bit. But still, were they Jehovah’s Witnesses or something? Not. This young mom and her baby girl were looking for Isabelle, who has been missing since yesterday afternoon. She’s an indoor-outdoor cat but she has never been missing overnight before.

I wish I knew where Isabelle was. I have been seeing a cat that looks a bit like her around for the last couple weeks. But maybe not quite… When I was a kid, we lost my dog Tigger for a few days once. She was just barely beyond puppyhood and she managed to escape her chain and… Vamoose.

I was six at the time and I remember feeling absolutely sick thinking about how I might not ever see my dog again. But Sault Ste. Siberia was a small town and apparently a lot of people knew that our dog was lost and so we got all kinds of calls about Tigger sightings. The Commander and Grandroobly checked out the dog pound and we even investigated one call about a lost dog on the north side of the Fort Street bridge. It looked a lot like Tigger, but it was not *our* dog.

I cannot for the life of me remember who found Tigger or how we got her back. But we did. And we never lost her again. She was a smart dog and she eventually figured out how to rule the world. She learned that jumping up on people and barking was not a good strategy for getting petted and being told things like “good dog”. Except when she detected a real threat like the milkman.

One of my favorite stories about Tigger was once when Grandroobly drove out to the moomincabin with her in the winter. They started to walk back to “town” (Sault Ste. Siberia) on the ice and Tigger was rocketing all over the place but at some point didn’t return. Grandroobly continued down the river into town to find that Tigger was already home. Apparently, she hadn’t been able to find Grandroobly after one of her expotitions but she did manage to get to Doc Read’s house. He put her in his car and drove her home.

I hope this mom and her little daughter find their cat. That is all.

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