You wouldn't think that it's possible.
But it is.
I have lost the cat in my essentially-one room, studio-style apartment on multiple occasions in the past four days.
Each time I think I am losing my mind, or that he has escaped through his only exit without my knowledge.
The first time he was under the bed (searching error on my part, obviously not that hard to locate an animal under a bed--but he was being very quiet).
The next time he was under the recliner. I doubt I would have found him there, unless I reached a panic mode and started looking in all nooks and crannies including the microwave and VCR (yes, I still have one of those). I had seen him approaching the chair and sniffing its baseboard moments prior to his disappearance, however, which led me to sleuth my way to his cute little furry self. Where I was regarded, of course, with the universal cat look, that which says, with blank eyes yet coy demeanor, "What?"
Finally, this evening, he just disappeared (don't worry, Mom and Dad--I found him!). I had no clues. I searched the obvious places twice, to make sure he wasn't switching it up on me, or that I just wasn't paying attention on the first run-through. And then I found him. In a cabinet (doors partially opened, cat-wide, apparently), on a shelf. He purred when I tugged on the folds of his neck. Content to be found, even though his initial goal may have been to hide without being sought.
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