Where the hell is the cat?!

The cat is gone, baby, gone.  At 72 hours I'm calling it official.  Luckily we also have no sign of hidden decomposition, so let's hope that blessing holds.

There's a litter tray in the walking path by the bedroom, at the top of the stairs, that is in the way of a household without an elderly cat.  I've bent down a few times to put it away, or move it, but there are four paw prints in the fluffy cellulose litter and they catch me, and I can't even bump the tray.