Lost & Found... and one smart cat!

You never can realize you've lost something until its gone; and that empty, sinking sensation fills your tummy. You can pin-point the exact moment it moves to "lost" from "not-found". Last week I discovered a pair of earrings have gone missing, and in my mind they are "not found" instead of "lost" because I have simply not found them yet. But this morning presented me with a different story.

Last night was Valentines's Day. Josh and I spent the evening out in Brooklyn, having appetizers and champagne and one of our favorite Italian restaurants (Scopello), attending a performance of MacBeth with Patrick Stark, and getting home past our bedtime. Having had espresso only an hour before, I was wired and sleep did not come so readily -- and once I found it, it didn't last long.

When I woke at 7AM, I knew something was wrong. Chloe (who is probably the smartest cat in the world) was up to her "bad antics" of throwing things off the nightstand to wake us up. She only does this when she is out of food and looking for breakfast, so I was surprised when I went to her dish and it was relatively full. She continued to follow me around the apartment as I tried to figure out what was not right.

Then it hit me. Our apartment was much too quiet for one that houses two cats. Where was Jasmine? The feeling in the pit of my stomach, quickly told me she was not in the apartment. But where could she be? We hadn't left a window open, and the door was closed.

Josh was woken up quickly, and in charge of searching the house. In a panic, I through on clothing and tore out into the hallways. I just had to find her.

Not on the first floor, not in the garbage, maybe the top floor? So up the 6 flights I went. The higher I went, I realized the minimal options she had to go -- except in someone else's apartment.

As I approached the 5th floor, I stared in horror at the window. It was wide o

pen, without a screen or anything. This was not good. I peered all around the rooftops and alleyways below, and no Jazz. Only the worst flashed

through my mind.

I panicked, and quickly turned, only to realize I had run out of steps! And sitting on the last one, cool as a cucumber, was Miss Jazz. I scooped her up, and the tears began to flow. I was so afraid I had lost her.

Back at the apartment, our little family was back together again. But we will all remember the morning that Jazz snuck away, the fear of having lost her, and the happiness that warmed our hearts to have her back.