I may yet get my cuddles. Findley is still with us. Sweetie McPie found him yesterday afternoon -- alive and well, or well-enough -- in the washing machine. (We have a front-loader.) He was just cuddled up in there, completely invisible under a pile of dirty towels and gym socks.
The night before, I'd stuffed some whites in, and then decided I didn't have full load so abandoned the effort with the idea that I'd eventually grab the bathmat from upstairs and then put the laundry on...
Findley was *this close* to being euthanized via the permanent press cycle. I shudder at the thought.
McPie found a kitty-sized box, put Findley's cozy oven mitt* in it, and placed it on the heat vent in the kitchen for Fin to sleep in. So much as he can enjoy anything these days, the kitty is enjoying coze, warmth, and company, without having to move.
* When Finner was still dextrous, he would regularly pop open the bottom kitchen drawer where we kept the dishtowels and oven mitts, and curl up in the back of the drawer. One of the mitts is so covered in fur it's now "his".
4 comments:
Phew! I'm happy for you guys. Funny, because I just locked Murphy in the linen closet this morning. I can understand the washing machine.
I'm so glad you found him! That was quite a near-miss he had - those front loaders are pretty much impossible to open after you start them up.
Who knew the dangers lurking within a peaceful washing machine? I am so glad Findley is cozying up with his trusty oven mitt.
ack! the thought of findley meeting his end in the washer is awful!
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