Yesterday morning I was woken by a strange sound I can no longer recall. I just know that I sat bolt upright and turned to see Fred standing by the open window, shaking his head and saying "Mari-Lynne est tombée"!
"She fell. Mari-Lynne fell out the window".
I ran to the balcony and way down on the concrete, a very dazed and shaken cat was standing on uncertain legs, three stories below. I called to her and she began to walk back up the stairs. Fred met her at the bottom and carried her up to us and we watched as she tried to walk, lay down, tried again. She seemed unable to open one eye and unwilling to move much. We were so scared that she might have broken something, or be bleeding internally. I stayed home to watch her and was so relieved when, an hour or so later, she seemed to be her normal self again.
But Mari-Lynne was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the day. When Joanie came home and I tolde her what happened and there was still no sign of the kitten - I know we were both worried that she had crawled off somewhere to die. Of course, neither of us actually voiced those fears. Joanie eventually said goodnight and went to get ready for bed. From her room I could hear laughter and she emerged with Mari-Lynne under her arm. The cat had spent all day and all of the evening in Joanie's closet - unable to get out. I suspect she mightn't have wanted to though, preferring to recover somewhere safe and silent.
I'm still amazed at what a cat can survive. Amazed and very relieved.