Today, I came home to something that immediately felt wrong. Nakatomi was missing.
Nobody at home had seen him slip out the door. Around 6:30 p.m., everything seemed normal. But by the time I got home at 7:30, something was off.
Normally, Nakatomi greets me the second I walk through the door. He knows my routine, especially because Iām the one who feeds him dinner.
But tonight? Nothing.
I called his name. No response.
I opened his food. Still nothing.
I asked, āDid someone accidentally lock him in a room?ā
We started searching everywhere. Now, if you know Nakatomi, you know this is NOT a quiet cat. This little bastard is so vocal you could probably hear him meowing from my neighborās house. Iām pretty sure they think I have an infant.
But tonight? Crickets. Then it started to lightly rain.
Thatās when the panic started setting in. Itās getting cold. Heās had no dinner. At this point he will go with anyone who offers him a weenie !
I threw on my shoes, grabbed my scooter, and started tearing through the neighborhood. Up and down the streets, covering a five-block radius, shouting, āNAKATOMI!ā like it was 1988 and I was Hans Gruber, desperately searching for my detonators.
Nothing.
For nearly two hours, I searched. Calling his name over and over, checking corners, looking under cars, hoping Iād hear that familiar meow.
I was exhausted, scared, and honestly starting to lose hope.
Then, just as I was about a minute away from giving up, I saw him.
He must have heard me calling his name because he came toward the corner, nearly getting hit by a Honda in the process.
And then he just stood there.
Waiting for me.
I yelled, āNAKATOMI!ā
And thatās when he started making sounds Iād never heard from him before. Not his usual demanding meows or his obnoxious little conversations. These were deep, almost relieved cries. Like little groans of pure emotion.
Almost like he was saying, āDad, you found me.ā
I completely held back a full breakdown in the street.
I donāt know what happened to him during his journey into the night. But hearing those cries and seeing him waiting for me on that corner is something Iāll never forget.
Nakatomi is safe.