So I hate the cat one day and I
love her the next, but even on my hate the cat days I don’t want her to spend
the night outside in 30 degree temps running from the neighborhood fox. She got out Halloween night. Not sure how
that happened because the door was only open about ½ the night and she was
being chased by kids with masks. Worst part is we didn’t actually see her
leave, so not sure if she is stuck somewhere in the house slowly dying of dehydration
or outside lost and cold. After roaming
the neighborhood with a flashlight at 12:30 (Doug) and 3:15 (me) I gave up and
went to bed. At 6am I came down to check
the door one more time figuring by now she has become an appetizer for
something or road kill at the very least.
Ends up she appeared to be out partying all nights with her little kitty
friends. At that moment I had never been happier to see her and had never hater her more. Now she runs for the door
whenever she hears it open. All I know
is if losing your crazy cat it 1/100th as stressful as having your teenage boys come
back late from curfew, I’m never going to survive the next 15 years! (or they will be restricted to their rooms forever)
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