Cross Your Fingers For Bruno.

Something totally not so cool has happened. And I worried about it all night while I tried to sleep. It’s a long story, but I’ll get into it anyway.

Nearly three weeks ago (a week before I headed east, and two before Toby had) our neighbors, Bob and Cass wen overseas for a long vacation. We were asked to watch their cat, Bruno, until the 23 of September. At that point, a friend of theirs, Bahma, was coming down from Portland to take over and stay there for a few weeks. We agreed told them we’d be heading out of town right around the time their friend would be in, so it’d work out well.

Last thursday, I got a phone call from Toby saying that he hadn’t heard from Bahma yet and that their was still no activity in their apartment. I told him to get the number off of the kitchen table and I would call overseas to find out what we should do. I figured, worse case scenario, we’d have to ask Cathy (our beloved cat-watcher) to take over their house as well. Friday morning, Toby stopped by and then headed off to work. He said he’d get the number later that evening. Perfect.

Later that evening, the door was locked. At this point I was relieved thinking that Bahma had shown up and all was well. What I didn’t know at that point was that it was the bottom lock that had been locked and NOT the top, dead bolt.

So days go by. I tried to call them a few times at their home number thinking that Bahma might pick up. That did not happen. I begin to think that maybe Jim (the owner, who lives there as well from time to time when he’s not living it up in his second home, Hawaii) may have gone in for some reason, totally unannounced, and locked the door. This would mean that Bruno hadn’t been fed in days.

I ask Cathy to call me from our place the following day (she’d already stopped by that day) and give me his numbers both in San Francisco and in Hawaii. She did so. We called last night.

Here is the part where my tummy turns. Jim, again, TOTALLY uninvited and unannounced, LET HIMSELF into their apartment last Friday and LOCKED the bottom lock, a lock we don’t even have a key to. And I’m not sure that they do, either.

This means that Bahma, had she shown up at all, may not have been able to get in. This also means that Jim, the owner, is sort of an asshole. He has done this to us before, which was a pain in the ass only because we never invited him into our home and I do believe that this is illegal. This time, however, he may be responsible for killing an animal. And I’m livid.

I can only hope that Bruno has been able to drink from the toilet and somehow get to her food (which is on the floor near her food bowl.)

What an awful situation. We’ll find out today if all is well by involving the Rental Management Company. :[

I love cats. This totally sucks. It makes me feel ill.


  1. My landlord called me one day, and asked me why I was throwing away other people’s mail. I explained that I was receiving other people’s mail in my box, and since the letters didn’t appear to be important, I tossed them.

    We hung up the phone, and then it hit me:

    My landlord looks through my trash.


  2. You’re trash!? What is wrong with these people!?


  3. Don’t call him trash.


  4. hahahhaa

    Ooops. Sorry, Jeff. YOUR trash. You are not trash. I hate that mistake.


  5. i’m crossing my fingers. how many days has he not been fed now? i’m sure he probably found a way to get to some water and he should be okay (not great, but ok) without food for a couple of days. so keep us up to date!!


  6. I love cats! I have the best cat in the world its a Siamese !And i would suggest any cat lover to get a self feeder!youre cat will eat when she is hungery and is better for there diet! plus you can leave for a week and not worry.(not that i have done that but you could)really hope the cat is ok!


  7. I’m sure Bruno will be ok. The landlord is a jerk for intruding uninvited, unless he was asked to enter the apartment by Bob and Cathy. It could be that they learned independently that Bahma was not coming to SF, and because they assumed that you were both out of town, they contacted the landlord to do something about Bruno. After all, if you were going to trust the care of your cats to people you knew were going out of town and counting on another person to arrive, don’t you think you’d stay on top of the situation (and not necessarily presume that the caretakers will devote as much thought and energy as you are). Ultimately, an pet’s proper care is the responsibility of its owner. This does not make the worry any easier, but you can ask yourself how responsible Bob and Cathy are, and if you feel good about them, then you can trust that they aren’t going to let their cat starve.

    I made the mistake of thinking my cats would be happier at my sister’s place while we were out of town for 2 weeks. Uh, let’s just say that when Spider viciously bit Sally on the hand and shit all over her apartment, we were thankful that because Sally’s a doctor she was able to give herself mega doses of antibiotics so that her hands would fit in latex gloves and she could continue to operate on children. Note to self: cats are happier at home, even if they’re alone and hungry, than they would be at some stranger’s apartment.


  8. Bruno is OK! YAY! Thanks to JJ for checking her out. Woo. I can sleep again tonight.


  9. GotJesus, very true. I once took my cat to my mother’s house becuase I was going to be gone for over a week. He spent every day of it sitting in her closet, acting like a maniac rabid lion if you even looked at him in there.

    I’m sure the kitty will be fine. Apartment might be messy—but I’m sure he’s fine!

    On the subject of landlords, my previous one freqently entered my apartment unannounced, usually regarding some type of maintaince work, but they never called or let me know they were going to—not even a knock! So I never got in the habit of walking around naked out of fear of it.


  10. Well, we know for a fact Jim (our landlord) was not invited by them to check things out. He just intruded, uninvited. And screwed everything up. Now that I found out Bruno is o.k. I can worry about Bahma and wonder if she tried to get in and never was able to. I wonder where she is, assuming she showed up. :/


  11. Poor kittie. I’m sure he was fine, just bored, but still. Scary.


  12. By the way … I HATE goddamned landlords. I can’t believe I was even trying to be open-minded about one. I must be getting soft in my dotage.

    A buddy of mine told me a story about when he was a student in London. He was sitting with some people when a friend’s landlord came by. The landlord was a real jerk who was whining pathetically “why don’t you ever pay me your rent?” to which the marxist punk replied “BECAUSE YOU’RE THE FUCKING LANDLORD, that’s why!”

    We had this one fucking landlord who was beyond useless. I couldn’t say his goddamned name without appending “rat-bastard dildo-breath.” Landlords rank up there with temp agencies/contract staffing companies on my list of the most absolutely useless parasitic motherfuckers on the planet. People hate lawyers, but I can stomach them. It’s the fucking landlords and staffing companies that piss me off. Them and the fucking insurance companies. I have felt more fondness and gratitude for boils on my ass than I have ever felt for any one of those fuckers. There has to be a special section of hell for landlords and the owners/managers of staffing companies and insurance companies. One where their fat fucking carcasses suffer unspeakable tortures, where their genitals are ridiculed, and where they are plagued by innumerable stinging pests.

    Phew … that felt good.

    Glad Bruno is well.


  13. I do hope that Bob and Cass say something to Jim. I mean, if someone put my kitties at risk, I’d freak the hell out.


  14. what the f#%$ was up with that? Clearly the challenge of identifying and spamming blog comments sections isn’t that great, but who was the jerk who decided that it would be a good marketing tactic? Probably some fucking landlord type.


  15. No clue. Had Toby delete it. How totally annoying. Fucking smoke companies.


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