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This morning we couldn't find the kitten we brought home last night. She was supposed to be in the bedroom or bathroom, but was nowhere to be found. Well, we figured, she must have found a hidey hole to nap in. We left food and water and went to work.
So I get home early to track her down and take her to the vet. She's got to be in that bedroom somewhere. I get out the flashlight, look under the bed, under the dressers, behind the furniture, in the closet, in shoes, behind doors. No kitten.
Uh oh, maybe she got out.
I start searching the house. Under and behind the furniture, I uncover a lot of fluff, two cat toys, a netsuke the cats had appropriated as a cat toy, a styrofoam peanut, and a coupon for Smuckers jam. I start looking inside the furniture--the sleeper sofa and the easy chair. The cats are looking at me like I've lost my mind. By this time we've long missed our vet appointment.
I go back upstairs to check the bedroom again.
Scritch.
Scritch, scritch.
I follow the sound.
The kitten had wedged herself into a two-inch space behind a freestanding wardrobe and found a small space on the underside of the wardrobe to tuck herself into.
She didn't look pleased to see me.
I gave her a bit of strained chicken. She licked it and lost interest. I took her to the litter box. She peed. Then she crawled under the couch.
Now I've got to decide if I've got a sick kitten on my hands that needs to be driven 30 miles to the emergency vet or just a scared, overwhelmed kitten that needs a bit of privacy.
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