This morning, I was along my current favorite walking/running route (oh yeah, so I started to do this exercise commonly known as “running”—I can’t keep it up for very long, but the fact that I’m doing it at all baffles me), which takes me through a large apartment complex across the street from my own building and into the cemetery I featured in my last post. When I reached a corner that would take me to a foot bridge across the river to the cemetery, I saw something colorful on the ground.
Coming closer, I realized it was a cat collar. I looked down to see that the nametag was facing up, and from where I was standing, I saw something that made me think, “I did not just see that.”
So I pick it up, and my eyes did not deceive me, it said “Sherlock.”
I thought, “Wow, I hope Sherlock isn’t lost/missing! But a collar without a cat inside it…what can you do?” so I put it back down on the ground and went along my way.
After visiting the cemetery and turning back home to go back to work and avoid imminent rain, I went past the collar again, and then decided to pick it up and take it with me. The nametag also had an address and phone number on it. Based on the street name, I could tell that Sherlock belonged in that apartment complex. I figured maybe I’d take the tag home and call the number and ask if Sherlock is OK because I found his collar.
But along the way, because his name is Sherlock, I couldn’t help trying to make deductions based on the collar:
1. Intact, not too dirty, but frayed—the collar isn’t fresh, but it wasn’t on the ground for much time
2. The collar was open but not broken; it had been opened properly at the clasp, meaning it was either one of those breakaway collars in case of an emergency, or a human had opened it—not the owner, because the owner would have taken the collar with him (people do: sentiment)
3. As if the name hadn’t already tipped me off, the green/blue color combination of the collar suggested a male animal
So I was carrying it with me along a street within the complex on my way home. I wasn’t sure which street I was on at the time, but I looked at the house numbers on the condos and saw one with the same number as the address on the collar. Not only that, but there was a little water dish outside the front door. This was literally around the corner, only a few doors down from where I found Sherlock’s collar, so it was unlikely that he was lost.
I decided that, instead of taking the collar with me, I would just leave it at the front door by the water dish. I thought about ringing the bell, but it looked dark inside, and it was late morning, so whoever belonged to Sherlock was probably at work. Plus, I was all sweaty, I had to use the bathroom, and it was about to rain, so I didn’t want to linger. Since I had a collar with no cat inside it, there was nothing I could tell them except “Hey, I found this, I hope he’s OK, here you go,” which already would have been implied by his collar magically being dropped off at the doorstep.
So that’s my story. That’s the most interesting thing that happened to me this morning, and it will probably be the most interesting thing that happens today!
P.S. My theory about what happened to Sherlock: (the cat, not the consulting detective … there, I have no idea) I found the collar between the address on the nametag and a wooded area, but the collar itself was in the middle of the grass. An open breakaway collar would suggest it caught on something, but there was nothing near the collar that it would have gotten caught on. So I guessed that Sherlock was in the wooded area, the collar caught on something, was loosened/opened, but stayed dangling around his neck until it fell off halfway home.
(Do I need a life? YES. YES I DO. DESPERATELY.)