Cat Spirit

I came home from a long day around 11:30 and noticed that Max did not greet me at the door like he always does. I figured he was already sleeping in my bed, but only his hair was there. I went to see if he was with Steph, but when she had not seen him since she got home around 10:30 I started to freak out inside.

You know the feeling that is deep inside and brings tears to your eyes because at that instant you know something is very wrong. I stared looking everywhere, woke up my other roommate to see if she had seen him and was about to burst into tears and make P come over to help when I heard a little cry outside by the front door.

I could pick out Max's cry from a room full of cats. Seriously. I really do have the cat spirit. We played Marco Polo for a while until he figured out I was trying to take him inside and he likes it outside.

As I was walking barefoot through my neighbors garden I stepped on something soft, slimy, and really squishy. Steph laughed as I wanting to scream out in disgust that I had just killed a slug with my bare feet. I guess it is kind of payback for this.

Here I am 20 minutes, later after a flashlight chase through two neighbors backyards and a foot scrub like you have never seen, with Max...in bed...right where he should have been all along.

Max. It's a good thing I love you and that you ran inside because new cats are free.