The unthinkable

I arrived home tonight to the unthinkable. After letting the dogs out, I started calling for Chip, like I always do. No response. I looked up, figuring he was in one of his enclosures up high that he loves. I then noticed the middle door. Hanging. Wide. Open. I knew then and there that the cat had gotten the door open.

I immediately locked the cat in a bedroom, the dogs in another, thinking I could lure Chip out with some of his favorite yummies. It was then that I saw the blood.

There was a little trail on the table, then smears on the kitchen floor. I have yet to find him. All hope was lost when I saw that blood. I fear that the cat injured him or killed him, then the dogs ate him.

How I wish Mr. Bruises was home. I can't bring myself to look for his little body. I just hope that it was quick for him. I guess I gave him four extra weeks of life, but it still sucks that he was massacred by his housemates. This is gonna be a long night.