Sunday, June 03, 2007

Midnight Visitor

Last night, for the first time in many nights, I sat at the computer reading. I had munched the pre-requisite wasabi peas, had a cup of tea, and was sitting back relaxed in our comfy computer chair. Ahhh...relaxation.

I sat and read about various National Parks and was planning our vacation when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that something large and furry had just walked past my chair and under the desk where my feet were.
See, this would be okay if we had pets.


You can't imagine the panic when you suddenly realize that a large furry animal is under your desk with your feet, when your home has never had any furry-type of animal in it besides stuffies. And stuffies don't MOVE.

You realize that now you have a live thing hanging out in dark spaces with your toes. Does it have rabies? Is it a raccoon? Rat? Dog? Will it bite you? I quickly tucked my toes under me and slowly pushed back the chair, grabbing a pen as a weapon and ready to do battle with whatever psycho-furry wild thing was under my chair. My heart was pounding wildly and I was ready to scream.

A streak of grey fur suddenly darted from under the desk. I panicked for just a minute, a scream catching in my throat, and then sighed in complete relief once I saw what it was.

It was a cat.

A little grey and white cat sat in the doorway, obviously confused. It looked around as if to say, "Geez, I could've sworn this was my house," but one look at me and the cat knew it had screwed up. He sat there for a minute, looking down the hallway towards the bedrooms, contemplating his escape.

Omg. What if it goes down the hallway? I'll have to corner it to get it out of the house and it will probably freak out. Jake will want to adopt it. Did it bring a mouse in here? I checked under the desk for mouse bits. All clear.

"Here, kitty, kitty." I thought if I distracted it, maybe it would somehow do my bidding.

Having regained it's composure, the cat sauntered through the kitchen and out the back door where it stood on the porch, licking it's paws and looking at us with contempt.

I didn't want to live with you anyway, his eyes said as he stopped and looked at us suspiciously. Jake was pressed up against his bedroom window screen, oohing and awwing over the cat.

"Can we keep it?"
"NO." Hubs and I answered in unison.
"Can I feed it?"
"But it's so cute!"
"Sorry, but the cats need to stay outside." I closed the back door just to make sure. The cat splayed itself out on the porch, obviously deciding that it wasn't going anywhere. We just didn't want to risk it coming back in.

"Well *I* like the cat," Jake insisted.
"Go to bed."

This morning the cat was gone, but it left one last reminder of what it thought of last night's adventure. On the front porch, right in front of the door, it left a gift.

A big ol' smelly cat poop.
photo by Misocrazy

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