What a Cat Knows

Last Tuesday Grant collected me from work a bit early and we drove to the mechanic's, picked up his car which had been in for (more) repairs, and drove home separately; I made a quick grocery-store stop along the way. When I got home Grant and Miss B were playing soccer in the front yard; I took the groceries into the kitchen, went upstairs, changed my clothes, used the facilities, and then meandered back downstairs to check my email and outside to watch the soccer.

A little later, realizing that I had forgotten to pick up a prescription at CVS despite driving right by it on the way home, I went to get my car keys.

Only they weren't in any of the pockets of the pants I'd been wearing — nor could I find them in any of their other usual spots in the bedroom, nor in the bathroom, nor in the kitchen, nor by the computer or on the coffee table or anywhere else in the living room. Finally I borrowed Grant's.

For the rest of the week I looked for those keys. I cleaned off the cedar chest over which I had draped the pants I changed out of. I scoured the van. I went through all the kitchen drawers in case I'd left the keys on the counter and they'd fallen in. I looked in the front yard. I knew they couldn't have gone far, because I'd driven home with them and lost them somewhere between leaving the van and changing my clothes.

I pinned my hopes on the cleaning lady's visit on Friday, but no luck there either. I began to wonder if they'd fallen into a wastebasket somehow, and if I'd have to go through all the bags of trash, sifting through coffee grounds, perusing diapers, to make sure they weren't in there.

Yesterday while I was sitting at the computer, Achilles came in and jumped on my lap. This was fairly unusual, as most of the time he is friendly but not much of a lap-sitter, and I felt honored.


Since I knew Achilles to be a very helpful cat (he is seen above assisting in the assembly of Liz's blanket), I asked him, "Achilles, do you know where my keys are?" I might note that no one else was in the room at the time; even I am not so crazy as to enlist feline aid in finding my keys if I think another human might be listening. He continued purring, and I thought, "Silly of me even to ask him, he hangs out in the guest r... OMG."

While leaving the groceries in the kitchen, I had noticed a box that had come from elann, pounced upon it lest Grant spot it and taken it upstairs to the yarn r... I mean guest room, and used the Swiss army knife on my key ring to open the box. (elann's newest house yarn is a baby alpaca/merino laceweight. It's very soft. Not that you should buy it or anything.) Talk about yarnesia.

So, next time you're missing something, try asking a cat.