It's just this little chromium switch, here... (derspatchel) wrote,
It's just this little chromium switch, here...
derspatchel

cat you is dum

Got an email yesterday while at work. "We think Abbie may have gotten out again. There was a plumber who came to check the boiler and he left the doors open but he didn't see a cat go by, and we didn't see the cat go near the basement door. He ran upstairs when the plumber first came in but we haven't seen him since."

Happened at 1:30. Email went out at 3:30.

I came home at 5:30. Went upstairs. He's probably chilling on my bed or under it. Not on the bed. Not under the bed where he usually chills. I go down to the basement. He's not in the basement and not on the back porch and not in his usual hidey spots.

Disconcerting. I eat dinner, which is a tasty burrito. I make sure the cat knows that I Am Eating A Tasty Burrito and It Is Very Delicious and It's A Good Thing The Cat's Not Around Because He'd Sure Want In On This Delicious Burrito Action.

No sign of the little bugger.

I go back upstairs and, behind a closed door, begin to scream and holler and work up a lather something fierce. I cuss the stupid plumber, that goddamned no good door-leavin-open sign-not-readin cat-lettin-out sonofabitch. I am very frustrated because I do not want to see another search-n-rescue operation and the cat picks the best proper times to pull this and GODDAMMIT THE PLUMBER SHOULD HAVE JUST CLOSED THE FUCKIN DOOR IS THAT SO HARD TO ASK I MEAN SERIOUSLY PEOPLE WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS A NO-BRAINER GNAAAAAAARGH.

Decide to read a little to calm down. There is a rustle from the bed. From the other side of the bed. From the side that usually has too much junk under it for the cat to go. I check that side. There is the cat. He looks at me and goes "What?"

"What?" Dude, you just hid under a bed for nearly 6 hours. People callin for you, making click-click here-kitty sounds, wavin food around to give you the scent, even actually COOKING in the kitchen so you'd come down begging for something. Don't you "what" me.

Relieved nonetheless that he's not outside poopin on petunias, I go downstairs and grab some ice cream while I watch funny television situation comedies. Mr. Bedhider trots on down shortly afterwards and then jumps on my lap and tries to wheedle some ice cream out of me, or the spoon, or the container.

Oh no you don't. I only bribe cats with people food when they're MISSING. Cat eventually curls up on the sofa and stretches out across my legs and sighs a big deep happy cat sigh before going back to sleep.

He's very lucky charm trumps dum when it comes to cats.
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