Twice today I chased our little orange tabby cat, Tangerine, around our neighbor's yard. Both times I saw her as I was leaving and although she isn't supposed to be out, I thought she had possibly squeezed through the screen door and escaped. Both times I absolutely had to be on time to where I was going and knew I would be back soon. I will confess that I completely forgot that I had seen her the first time, so when I saw her the second time, I was really irritated at her and myself, and was aggressive in my attempts to retrieve her.
Finally, I caught her! And then I realized that it wasn't Tangerine after all.
So yeah, my neighbors are probably wondering why the hell I'm harassing their cat, because they don't know that we have nearly identical kitties.
Loyal readers will remember the time that I found Tangerine dead on the side of the road on my way to a school function for Big Kid. I was devastated, sick with worry and grief throughout the function, stopped and studied the dead, one-eyed body on the way home and was disgusted with myself for not wanting to pick her up and put her in my car. (I was going to make Mr. Ashley go get her. I don't ever touch dead things.)
Then I pulled up at home to find Tangerine waiting on the door step. Very much alive, with both eyes intact.
So it's a good thing I didn't have the stomach to put that dead cat in my car.
I guess this is what I get for owning such generic-looking cats.