The cat that got away

I swore to myself early on that I wouldn't write about pets. Of course, it was an easy decision since I didn't have any at the time. I also have no desire to become one of those people who have pets instead of having children and then treat the pets like their precious children. My independent, selfish streak is too wide.
Then I decided to try getting a cat again. I had had one about 20 years ago but then I moved from the suburbs back into Paris and my flatmate gave me an ultimatum within days. The cat went back to its original owner fairly sharpish.
I thought I would surprise Pops and have the new cat before he arrived. That didn't work out. Next I decided I would torment him by telling he was getting a surprise on Friday. Since I told him at the beginning of that week and he hates not knowing what surprises are, it was torture for him (when he remembered or I reminded him).
Friday afternoon a friend of mine dropped off a cat. She has four and this was number four, adopted temporarily; however, her husband had put his foot down and said four was too many. Said cat (who still does not have a name) went to the vet to be fixed before arriving chez moi.
Apparently, I found a cat that has an even bigger independent streak than I have. It was in a state, my friend let it out of its cage. It took off toward the back off the house... At the same time I was outside putting my cigarette out, turning to go back in and close the front door. Then I heard "Columbo" and grasped at the blur of white and gray that flew by. No joy. I then headed off at an oblique angle trying to cut off the cat from the street/walls leading to the busier street. The cat shot from car to car.

Herding cats does not work, I can assure you. Perhaps it was my military style red coat and boots... Whatever the reason, he skirted me and when something else came into the road, he raced right up the corner wall--and over.
My friend and I explored the neighborhood behind mine. A nice man let me check his back garden. Another lady that I know told me to get the key to the laneway behind the houses. We walked down there as well.
Columbo and Pops were out that night. The blurry, freaked out boy cat made an appearance but we were not back home. The next morning the ugly dog from across the road chased the poor cat out of the neighborhood. The Saturday night the dog's pal, the ugly cat, picked a fight with the freaked out boy cat. One of my neighbors came running down at midnight to tell me. We raced back to where they were fighting, but the boy cat was long gone. It moves like lightening. And I do not.