Escape Artist...

I have to preface this post by saying, in this heat I sleep in panties and one of my many t-shirts. I get up at 5 AM and sometimes I'm brave enough to slip out my front door without putting on my shorts, snag my newspaper and the quickly slip back inside before any of my neighbors see me and go blind.

I thought I would do that this morning; however, Poncho was behind me, waiting for his chance. And before I could say, "WTF!" he was out the door and across the parking lot, furry chubby butt moving faster than I thought it could. Fourteen pounds of fluffy cat can move, especially when he surprises the old woman standing in her doorway dressed only in t-shirts and panties.

Grumbling, I ran to my bedroom, slipped on my shorts, put on shoes and followed "The Damn Cat" - actually I was calling him the "F-word" cat. I did the "kitty-kitty-kitty" thing as quietly as possible (it was 5 AM after all) with no takers - not even any of the strays that hang around the apartment complex.

It was still dark, so I went back inside to get the million-watt flashlight Morgan had given me. Outside I crouched under evergreens and bushes, swiping the flashlight back and forth, trying not to look like the crazy cat lady I seem to be becoming.

Grumbling even more, I went back inside the apartment to get my car keys. Maybe the F--ing Cat (Poncho's new name as far as I was concerned) had gotten as far as another section of the apartment complex. In t-shirt (bra-less of course) and shorts I would drive around flashing the million-watt light and calling, "Kitty, kitty, f-ing kitty." If I couldn't find him, then I would go to Dunkin Donuts and get a peanut butter and jelly donut that would ruin my blood sugar but gratify my soul.

I even thought, "Well, Poncho, if you want to be outside so badly, then stay outside!" And then I remembered writing a check for 265 dollars at the vet's and almost got into the car, until I saw it...a large ball of reddish-beige fluff walking down the sidewalk towards the apartment, just as if he'd meant to come home.

I tried to get him, but once again cat eluded woman and ran to a clump of evergreens behind the apartment...the same set of trees he would look at longingly while sitting at the back bedroom window. I decided to use food as a weapon and finally caught the perpetrator with an open container of wet Meow Mix.

Unhappy cat and unhappy cat lady tramped back home.
After eating his breakfast, Poncho slunked under a bookcase. I took my shower, still grumbling.
Murray looked at me as if to say, "Don't worry about me doing that. I know where I have it good."

I certainly hope Murray relates that to F-ing Cat...er Poncho.