Sometime between last Saturday night and Sunday afternoon something happened to Zak, my one-year-old ragdoll. “Meow Mike”, my cat-feeder guy, said he last saw Zak on Saturday afternoon. If he’d been run over somebody would’ve probably read his name tag and called me but nobody has. Plus local authorities say they have no reports of any dead cats in my area. So the best guess is that (a) some malignant life form kidnapped him and drove off to Pico Rivera or Victorville or Gardena or Bellflower or (b) some thoughtless asshole within a two-block radius is “taking care” of him and not bothering with the fact that Zak has an owner. It’s a major heartbreaker on top of losing my mom a week and a half ago. No, I don’t believe in keeping cats prisoner inside a home or apartment. You can’t raise an animal and not let him/her feel the wind, walk on the grass, see the stars in the sky, feel the sun of his/her face, smell the flowers, etc. If it means a shorter life then that’s what it means. I am not a jailer. I do not work for the Sing Sing Correctional Facility in Ossining, New York. Last night I made up a bunch of “SEEN THIS GUY?” posters (catchy with color photos) at Kinkos and stapled them on a few local trees, taped them to juncture boxes, etc.