The detriment to sleeping with your windows open is the dogs hear the birds, then the dogs bark and want to go out to chase the birds.  So began my peaceful Sunday morning.  The day started at 6:20 with Delilah barking and rushing from the room;  because of some really noisy crows.

“Caw, caw, caw.”

I got up put the dogs outside, shut the bedroom door and went back to bed.  Alas sleep evaded me.  So I got up.

Upon walking into the living room I was greeted by the thump, thump, thump of Sampson’s tail whacking against the couch.  Delilah came inside as soon as she heard me, thinking since I’m up, I would be willing to feed them breakfast before 7:00 am.  I have a strict policy and won’t feed them before the allotted time, if I do then she starts her antics even earlier the next day.

7:00 am rolled around  and Chet and I started the feeding frenzy process; (damn those birds were really noisy this morning) amidst the symphony of animal noises, I noticed something was missing.

“Where’s Bob?”  I asked Chet.

So began the great Bob hunt.  The great Bob hunt was similar to hunting for Easter Eggs, except Bob isn’t round, or dyed or hard-boiled.

We searched the entire house, looking in closets and under beds; no Bob.  We looked at each other in wonder, could he have gotten outside?  How could that have happened?  He can’t push the screen door open and neither one of us let him out.  We walked outside into the back yard.

“Boy those crows are noisy today” I said.

“I think I’ll check out the front.”

I went inside and out onto the little front balcony.

“Bob,”  “Bob,”  I called.

“Caw, caw, caw” said the big black crow sitting in the tree. (Would that damn crow shut the eff up?)

Chet came along the side of the house from the back.

“Did you find him?”  I asked.

“No.” “Bob, Bob!”

“Bob” we called in unison.

“Caw, caw, caw” said the crow.

I said, “Why won’t that bird shut up”?

Chet’s response, “Maybe he’s found Bob.”

I’m beginning to hit panic mode at this point, and I’m hanging over the rail calling for Bob, then I hear it.  The faintest, most pitiful “Meow.”

“I hear him!” I scream, “Chet he’s over here somewhere.”

“Caw, caw, caw,” the fucking crow said.

Chet walked towards me, we are both looking frantically for Bob.  ” Bob”  “Bob” we call.

“Caw, caw, caw” said the crow.

“Will you shut up!” I scream at the crow.

Chet picked up a rock and pitched it at the damn bird.   He flew off.

Too bad neither one of us spoke crow.  The crow was saying, “Hey there’s a cat in the tree.”  “There’s a cat in the tree.” “Can anyone hear me, there’s a cat in the tree!” “A cat, a cat I say a cat’s in the tree.” (Now the crow sounds like Foghorn Leghorn.)

Holy Shit!  The cat was in the tree!  Does the fire department really come out and  get the cat out of the tree?

Chet said, “I think I can climb the tree.”

Then Chet realized, he was still wearing his slippers.

“I think I better go put some sneakers on.  Oh and I will need a backpack or something to put him in to carry him down.”

Good idea I thought.  Plus I figured I should have my cell phone just in case I need to call 911 because Chet fell off the ladder getting Bob out of the tree.  We both went inside, put our sneakers on and grabbed a backpack.  We went back outside and Bob was gone!

“Bob” we called, and called, and called.  No Bob.  We looked and looked and couldn’t find him.

“What could have happened to him?”  I asked.  “Do you think a hawk got him?”

“I don’t think a hawk could see him there.” Chet replied.

“But where could he have gone?”

“I don’t know, but I can’t worry about this right now.”  said Chet, and he went in the house.

We sat on the couch and I wondered, how am I going to tell my daughter we lost her cat?  What could have happened to him, then I pictured what the birds do to their prey in order to eat them.  I imagined Bob, broken and bloody lying in a field somewhere; birds poking him.  I felt sick to my stomach,  I turned to ask Chet a question and I realized, Chet was gone.

I looked out back and there he was, so Delilah and I went out.

“Have you seen him?”  I asked.

“No,” was the response.

“Bob, Bob”  I called again.

Then all of a sudden, there was a flurry in the bushes, Delilah had routed Bob, tail puffed up out of the bushes and into another tree!

“Can you get her out of here?”  Chet demanded.

I brought Delilah into the house and I brought Bob’s breakfast out.

“Come on buddy” Chet coaxed and Bob made his way haphazardly down the tree and into Chet’s arms.

Once Bob was safely in the house we decided he needed to have his collar on, we still need to get a tag with his name and our phone number on it; but in the meantime Bob can get use to wearing a collar.

We still have no idea how Bob got outside.  We don’t think he is large enough to push the screen door open himself; we know neither one of us let him out.  So the only other option is that Bob laid in wait for one of the dogs to open the door and snuck out.

OR someone opened the door deliberately and let him out.

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