January 12, 2006

  • Simba

    I hope I do this story justice, it is perhaps the best one I have.


    Several years ago, my friend Courtney and I decided to visit my friend Bobby (#2).  One of the reasons for me actually venturing into Arlington (something I dread doing, but that is another story) was that Bobby had just got a new cat.  If I recall, it was originally his sister's, but one of his nephews was allergic so Bobby volunteered to take it.


    So we're upstairs talking with Bobby, and he tells us that Simba is still pretty shy.  He was usually hiding under the bed all of the time, a second new home in a week's time will do that to a cat.  I, of course, insist on at least seeing him, so we look.  Bobby searches everywhere, and finds no trace.  This is a fairly small apartment, so we should easily find him.  I mention that on the way in, Court and I saw a friendly gray cat downstairs.  It was pretty much right at the bottom of his stairs, and was really friendly.  But Bobby insists that there is no way that Simba could have got outside the apartment.  We search some more, and there is no cat in the apartment.  The only possible explanation we find is that his bathroom window is slightly cracked, and it is possibly large enough for a cat to squeeze through.  However, if he had done this there was no ledge or any other thing to hang on to, but a sheer 2 story drop.  He describes Simba to us, and Court and I both feel that his description matches the cat that we saw at the entrance of his building.  I look out his door and the cat had followed us upstairs and was actually outside of Bobby's door.  Bobby still insists that there was no way he had got out, but agrees to at least take a look at the cat we saw outside. 


    I wish that I had a video of the following scene.  Bobby opens his door a crack, and looks out into the hallway.  He quickly closes the door and just stands there, quietly thinking.  He takes another quick look and closes the door.  After a minute or more of this, quick looks and then silent contemplation, all while standing perfectly still, Bobby finally decides that maybe this is Simba in the hallway. 


    He opens the door and lets Simba inside.  The cat is very friendly, cavorting around the living room and letting the 3 of us pet it.  Bobby is still quite perplexed.  He thinks this is Simba, but isn't sure. He is acting a bit more friendly than the shy Simba that Bobby knew, and there was still no way that he could have got outside.  Court and I are a bit confused, and say things such as, "You've lived with this cat for a couple days now, how can you not know?"  Bobby finally agrees that this is Simba.


    Court and I leave, and about an hour later I get the funniest phone call of my entire life.  Shortly after we left, Bobby kept hearing yelling out in his apartment building.  It was someone calling for a kid or a something.  He opens his door and sees that one of his neighbors is out there looking for a pet.  He goes back into his living room, and as his mind is trying to convince him that maybe he stole a cat, and as he is sitting on the couch with Simba from outside, the real Simba runs out of his bedroom.


    When the coast was clear, he quietly shoved the stolen cat out into the hallway, and never told his neighbors.


    So instead of referring to Bobby as #2, I should probably just call him catnapper, both for his predilection for afternoon sleep, and his shady pet stealing past.


    The below is not the real Simba, Bobby doesn't share his photos, but perhaps it was the temporary Simba.