Madoc: the prodigal returns!
Mar. 11th, 2007 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annwfynMadoc has been safely recovered. The process of getting him back was slightly more tortuous than last time. This time we had to drive to Lewisham.
Early this afternoon, around 1 pm, I finally started knocking on neighbours' doors, feeling a little guilty. I started off with the house whose garden backs on to ours. A rather large teenage boy came to the door, and almost immediately said "yeah, we found him on our doorstep yesterday. He was really ill, so we called a charity and they came and took him away".
He could not, however, remember which charity he had called.
After some time going through the yellow pages, with him periodically saying things like "yeah, he was there for three or four hours, but wouldn't move, so we knew he was ill" and "the charity people said he was really sick", and me becoming more and more panicked, he found the charity he had called, which turned out to be the Celia Hammond Trust.
I ran home, with my chest tight, and called them.
Their main phone was going straight to answerphone, but there was a number for their duty vet, who I called.
I got the response of "oh! Little chap with a curly coat? Yes, we've got him here. He's totally fine. He's got a bit of a fat tummy, hasn't he?"
I drove over to Lewisham where they had him. It appears that he was brought in yesterday afternoon, after the neighbours called the Celia Hammond Trust saying that they had sick cat who may have been hit by a car. They rushed out there, and found a totally healthy cat, looking rather confused, but they brought him in anyway as a stray. He's now been chipped, given his booster shots (which Myrddin needs next month) and brought home, looking extremely aggrieved and under the not terribly mistaken impression that he was a victim of catnapping. When we first brought him in, he ran upstairs and hid under Ginnie's bed for three hours. He has now appeared and is lying on my bed, still looking somewhat nervous that someone is going to put him in a cage and take him away to perform strange experiments on him.
And I'm breathing again. I am glad that the neighbours did care enough to call someone...sort of. I think I'd have rather had him come wandering home from adventuring last night, which I think he would have done, instead of being carried away to strange places. But that is all done, and the goblin cat is home.
And that is that.
Early this afternoon, around 1 pm, I finally started knocking on neighbours' doors, feeling a little guilty. I started off with the house whose garden backs on to ours. A rather large teenage boy came to the door, and almost immediately said "yeah, we found him on our doorstep yesterday. He was really ill, so we called a charity and they came and took him away".
He could not, however, remember which charity he had called.
After some time going through the yellow pages, with him periodically saying things like "yeah, he was there for three or four hours, but wouldn't move, so we knew he was ill" and "the charity people said he was really sick", and me becoming more and more panicked, he found the charity he had called, which turned out to be the Celia Hammond Trust.
I ran home, with my chest tight, and called them.
Their main phone was going straight to answerphone, but there was a number for their duty vet, who I called.
I got the response of "oh! Little chap with a curly coat? Yes, we've got him here. He's totally fine. He's got a bit of a fat tummy, hasn't he?"
I drove over to Lewisham where they had him. It appears that he was brought in yesterday afternoon, after the neighbours called the Celia Hammond Trust saying that they had sick cat who may have been hit by a car. They rushed out there, and found a totally healthy cat, looking rather confused, but they brought him in anyway as a stray. He's now been chipped, given his booster shots (which Myrddin needs next month) and brought home, looking extremely aggrieved and under the not terribly mistaken impression that he was a victim of catnapping. When we first brought him in, he ran upstairs and hid under Ginnie's bed for three hours. He has now appeared and is lying on my bed, still looking somewhat nervous that someone is going to put him in a cage and take him away to perform strange experiments on him.
And I'm breathing again. I am glad that the neighbours did care enough to call someone...sort of. I think I'd have rather had him come wandering home from adventuring last night, which I think he would have done, instead of being carried away to strange places. But that is all done, and the goblin cat is home.
And that is that.
