4:32 a.m. - 2004-09-17
The one about the cat
OK. Now I know this is going to sound a little....mmm...unlikely. But I just lost a cat inside my house. SO, I was outside, talking on the phone, when the nice little black kitty who visits sometimes came onto the porch. I gave him a little attention, and then returned my full attention to the voicemail I was leaving for Spags. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied him sneaking into the house. It is well past midnight, mind you. So, the last word of my voicemail was an expletive. For ten points, who can guess what the expletive was? Anyway, I shuffled quickly through the house....shuffling in fuzzy socks seemed less disruptive and loud to the sleeping members of the household, looking hither and thither for the kitty. I can't find it. I'm not kidding. I think it went in the basement, and there is NO WAY this lady is going into our VERY scary basement alone at midnightish time. So I waited and whipered things like "Here kitty." And made kissy noises and such that people do when beckoning to felines. Well, I just got sick of waiting. SO now I'm in my room. My biggest fear is that it's going to start meowing in the middle of the night to get out of the house. What should I do? I mean, I guess it's not the end of the world if I just wait until morning...I was thinking of leaving a note, but what would it say. Hi everyone, I think there is a cat somewhere in the house, so keep your eyes peeled. (???) They are going to think I am crazy. I think I'll go look again now. Pause.
Well, I found it. But then it ran away. Fast. Sigh. I chased it...as much as one can chase while doing the fluffy sock shuffling thing...growing to hate this particular cat increasingly. Well, after really way too much chasing than any person should have to at this hour...I caught him I admit there was a little teensy bit of frantic tail grabbing; don't tell PETA. But I got him. When I grabbed him, and cradled him to take him outside, he did this impossibly cute kitty cat thing where he went kind of limp in that ecstatic lovey "Please hold me and don't let go" way that cats do sometimes. I wasn't in the mood. I considered tossing him out the door, kind of swinging him back in forth with a one...two...three! Wee! manner, but decided (barely) against it. And rather set him firmly on the porch and shook my finger at him, with the other hand firmly planted on my hip, since it was too late for stern verbal shaming and emphatic door slamming. I received a blank stare and a little "Do I look like I care?" swish of the tail. And now. There is sleeping. Now. Yes. Now.
