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cat? burglar?
Wednesday, Jan. 04, 2012

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I got home from yoga around 9:40 p.m., after grabbing some Taco Bell for dinner (don't judge).

Ernest Hemingway met me at the top of the stairs, and then proceeded to act very out of sorts.

He kept staring down the hall toward the bedroom, retreating into the kitchen and then craning his neck around the fridge to peek. He would follow me about halfway down the hall, but would NOT go in. I could do nothing to coax him into the room.

So that started to freak me out. I mean, the house was quiet, and nothing had been disturbed, but he had never acted like this before. I got as far as the threshold and flicked on the lights. Tried to get him to follow me in, to no avail.

So I did what any rational person would do: left my husband a voicemail, texted a few friends, grabbed my chef's knife and tried to put 911 on speed dial.

In doing so, I alerted the cops to the fact that I was, y'know, dialing their number repeatedly, and they called me back. I apologized profusely, and explained how the cat had been acting. "And while I have you on the phone, would you indulge me by staying on the line while I take the cat and a very big knife into the bedroom?"

He did.

I did.

And promptly burst out laughing.

Because I found this:

and THIS:

He wasn't SCARED, he was GUILTY.

The first photo is the necklace that lives on the lampshade. Whatever he did knocked it to all the way to the floor. He's been sleeping on the cable box (the black thing at the bottom of the second photo) because it's warm, and I guess he was feeling adventurous and decided to climb to the top of the tall dresser. AND CHAOS ENSUED.

Silly puddy.


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a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012



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