Thursday, November 3rd, 2011
We lost Wayne Sanchez today. Phil put him in the section of the house where his litter and food are, so we could eat breakfast in peace.
Side note: He’s like a rabid raccoon. Or someone with Prader Willi syndrome. He has an insatiable appetite. If I turn my back for a split second, he’ll be drinking from my cereal bowl.
I went to let him out and he was nowhere to be found–until we stumbled upon a crawl space. It was way back in a cupboard that was open. Neither of us could even crawl back to see where it went (my pregnant stomach kept getting in the way), but it appeared to go to a hole in the floor. Thoughts of Baby Jessica came to mind. We rushed down to the basement to see if the space connected there. It didn’t. I began to get hysterical. I called the owner of the house at 7 a.m. and left her a frantic message. Then went hand-wringing to Phil.
“What if the hole goes to nowhere? Like deep into the ground?” I said, near tears.
“Jill, a hole goes to somewhere,” Phil said annoyed, though clearly stressed himself.
“Not necessarily” I said, panicked. “It could go to the sewer and then to the LA River and Wayne will be gone forever.”
“It would not. I’m telling you, a crawl space goes somewhere. If it went to the sewer we’d have rats in the house.”
Phil went outside to look around the exterior of the house.
Then I heard the magical words.
“I found him. Bring me food,” Phil shouted.
Wayne was sitting under the house in a screened in vent like-area, that apparently the hole dropped into. Phil pried it open and held food out (never misses an eating opportunity). Wayne got close enough for Phil to grab him and pull him to safety.
Fia and I cheered. Then I called the landlord. “Hi, it’s Jill again. We found Wayne. He is worse than a toddler. However, we need a handyman to cover up a hole in your house.”
Thank god the hole went to somewhere. I shudder to think of a world without Wayne.Add a Comment