Snowball

When the tomatoes appeared it wasn't them we were looking for. Under the glare of Kevin's LED bike light the green tomatoes were growing from a tomato plant we exiled from the indoor garden to a plot right of the porch next to the ivy. They had been stunted for too long indoors and lacking adequate provisions (bigger pot, more soil, cultivation skills, optimism, etc.) we turned them over to the wild. Months go by without thought. They tangled themselves in with other vegetation, fighting for existence in the harsh environment of tough soil & abounding competition.
And last night the cast away bore us sudden fruit in the form of tiny green tomatoes.
But like I said: it wasn't tomatoes we were looking for. We were looking for something more reliable last night, something that was not cast out, something that was expected home before bedtime and that was Snowball. Where was Snowball?
This morning I looked for her; opened up the doors & let the cool morning air come in. "snow-ball ..." The sing songy voice we save for gentle animal callings. Even Kevin does it followed by the gentle "click click click," the sound made from the sides of our mouths.
Where is she?