IN this year of smoke, fire, hail and pestilence, you’d think we would have enough to worry about but in our household one event has dominated all others – our cat ran away.

During mid-February I was visiting a 94-year-old friend, one of my former writers when I worked at “Muse” arts magazine. I knew from stories of her girlhood involving her favourite cat Ginger that she loved felines, so on a suggestion from my son, I took my two beautiful Burmese cats, Sinbad and Aladdin, to visit her.

All was well until unexpectedly, her son arrived, opening the front door and Aladdin immediately bolted into the shrubbery in Dickson – he was always wary of strangers.

Despite searches day and night, sticking posters up and down the street, calling all the vets in the region and the RSPCA and posting on the Canberra Lost Pet Database Facebook page, there was no sign of him.

I checked his cat “passport” and found to my horror that his microchip number was attached to a very old mobile phone that I haven’t used in a decade, so I quickly worked out how to change that.

The outpouring of sympathy was extraordinary, as for some reason, stories about lost, hurt or distressed animals bring out unexpectedly humane responses in people.

Friends and even busy colleagues at “CityNews” wanted to help search, and our graphic designer Janet offered to make a fancy new poster.

A month and a half of heartbreaking daily searches followed.

A pair of astrologists cast Aladdin’s star charts and concluded that he was high up, near water and in good health.

A resourceful journo friend of mine put me onto a noted ecologist, who generously set up a surveillance camera for a week or so. We learnt a great deal about the nocturnal life in Dickson and the voracious appetite of magpies who were wolfing down the cat food the RSPCA had suggested I leave, but there was no sign of Aladdin.

Queanbeyan Council pound opined that he would walk home and this was our favourite consoling fantasy, but by April, hopes were fading.

Then on Saturday (April 4) I received a call – “Brian from ACT Domestic Animal Services here… I have a cat called Aladdin.”

Brian had received a call-out from one of the big office buildings at Russell Hill and eventually caught Aladdin in a basement car park, emaciated and 3kg lighter but well and truly alive. Queanbeyan Pound may have been right – he was well on the way home to Queanbeyan.

To say that we are over the moon is an understatement. When I went to the Mugga Lane facility I was full of emotion and even more so when I saw I was the only person there on a happy errand – there was a line of people surrendering animals because they couldn’t look after them during the virus.

Our vet Emma, in an impressive half-hour phone consultation where she went through a health checklist, told us to feed him little and often. He’s been happy to oblige.

Aladdin is home, where, after 36 hours or so of growls and hisses from his older brother Sinbad, it’s all brotherly love again and he’s working hard at putting back on the lost 3kg.

His return has brought much-needed joy into the hearts of our many friends and my son has received more than 700 expressions of happiness on Facebook.

Members of the Canberra Critics Circle suggested I retell the story from Aladdin’s point of view and another thought a Jack London “Call of the Wild”-style adventure story would be good. Yet another suggested I focus on his adventures in the Department of Defence.

This story has had a happy ending, although for seven weeks it didn’t look so – and we are very happy we had him microchipped.