It had been almost a year since my last interview and I had finally snagged one. I was nervous as a cat all day. Which is ironic because my cat must have picked up on my anxiety. She had spent the day running up and down the stairs, around and through my legs, zipping over the furniture and across the floor. When I opened the door to leave she got out first and took off like a rocket.
What could I do? She’s my cat. I had to find her and get her back indoors. I was already running late so rather than take the time to call the interviewer and describe my predicament (what if she hated cats?) I thought it better to comb the neighborhood and try to catch her. As luck would have it, I spied her under the tree, oops, under the bush, whoosh, under the porch, where I was finally able to grab her. By this time my interviewing clothes weren’t as clean, tucked, and pressed as I had intended, but I figured what’s a little dirt? The important thing was I had found my cat.
Rather than return home and change clothes (I was really late) my cat and I drove directly to the interview. It was a steaming hot day and we were roasting (did I mention that my car’s a/c was on the fritz and that was why I was wearing shorts and sandals to an interview?). Anyhow, because of the heat, I knew I couldn’t leave my cat locked in the car or in the car with the windows open or in the car with the a/c running because the a/c didn’t work. See my dilemma? I had to take her into the interview with me. What other choice did I have?
The parking lot was a long haul from the building. Given my cat’s earlier performance I didn’t trust her to walk so I carried her, something neither of us was thrilled about. When we got to the building I set her down, momentarily, so I could open a mammoth door that looked like it weighed two tons. We entered just as a delivery guy was exiting. My cat did a one-eighty and followed him out to the parking lot. Another dilemma! Should I follow my cat or announce my arrival to the receptionist? Thinking clearly for a change, I did both. I hollered to her that I’d be right back because I had to catch my cat. (I normally don’t yell in an office building but the receptionist’s desk was half a marbleized football field away from where I was standing.)
I tore out of the building, ran to the parking lot, and got there just in time to see the driver pulling away and my cat jumping into the back of his van. What choice did I have but to follow them to their next stop so I could retrieve my cat? This time I had my wits about me. While in hot pursuit I called the phone number emblazoned on the rear of the van, thinking that I would ask the driver to pull over so I could get my cat. Instead, my call was answered by an on duty robot that wanted information I didn’t have (like my cat’s tracking number).
After chasing the driver across two counties I finally caught up with him. He was a really nice guy who happened to volunteer at the local Humane Society and was impressed by my tenacity and that of my cat. He suggested that I apply for a job with Animal Rescue, which I did. I am pleased to report that my cat and I have been working there ever since.
