When you've come to our house, you've seen the cat dishes and the cat box, but no cat, right? That's because Primrose is an invisible cat. We see her with her tail up and happy when she wants to eat, and she spends a lot of time with Grandpa Bill, but mostly she hides. She's getting a little bit better now - Aunt Meg Shoo-shoo has seen her and once almost touched her. And she somehow knows when Davy is here with Ausable. Those times she completely disappears.
When we first got her, we put her in the pantry, and after a few days she was totally gone. It's still weird to remember now that Grandpa Bill and I even unpacked the freezer (and defrosted it) looking for her. Luckily, she wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere. We looked for her for three weeks, then four. I called all the neighbors looking for her. Two people thought they'd seen her, but the SPCA person was sure Primrose had not run away.
And that turned out to be right. She had gone down to the cellar, looked around the shop and I guess she decided that she wasn't quite ready to learn how to knit, though she was apparently interested in the shop. Then she went into the downstairs bathroom, jumped on the sink and then the hot water heater, walked along the rafters and jumped down between the inside and outside walls. Five weeks to the day after she disappeared, she yowled. Grandpa Bill and I broke down the walls between the inside and outside of the house and we still couldn't catch her. We put out food and water, though, and caught her the next day. She spent three months in a hospital cage learning how to be a cat. She sort of knows now, but it's a long learning process.
I don't know whether I told you that when we came back from the wedding last year, we saw strange footprints around the house. Something had come out of the woods, run around the house, jumped up to Grandpa's study window and then run away. Uncle Andy said it was probably a cougar or bobcat. Miss Primrose was really upset! There was only one thing that made her feel better, and that was getting as close to Grandpa as she could, and staying there.
Don't try this yourselves - not that anyone other than Grandpa is likely to have the opportunity. Miss Primrose does not like to be noticed much - except to be told "What a pretty cat!" (from a distance). As I'm writing this, Grandpa is on the bed reading, and she is snuggled up next to him.
A non-Primrose note: we got a bunch more snow, then it got really warm and quite a bit of it melted. I forgot to call the snow-plow guy yesterday, and now I don't need to!