Yesterday evening, Little Boy ran out the door. He does this
sometimes, and usually goes around the building and lounges on the
stairs to the second floor. Eventually.

The few times he has done this, I always find him on the steps by
bedtime, and bring him in.

This time, I didn't see him on the steps, or in the nearby bushes. By
11pm, I was getting worried. Finally, about midnight, we went to bed,
having not found Little Boy.

I am currently unemployed, so managed to sleep in until about 9am
today. I hurried up and dressed, checked outside and... no Little Boy.
Rats!

Okay, I opened the blinds, fixed breakfast, sat down at the computer
for my daily job hunt and read the news. After a few minutes, I hear
Senyah muttering something. I get up and open the living room door.

There is Little Boy, looking sheepish, his front paws on the door's
threshold. I pick him up and cuddle him. I tell him that we missed
him, and worried about him, and that we had called the police and the
FBI, that the fire department was scanning all the local trees, and
that a helicopter unit was searching as well.

"All well and good," says he, "where's my food bowl?"

Little Feet and Dulce Mae have been trying to get a good sniff of him
to find out where he's been and what he's been up to. He has been very
affectionate since breakfast, and is purring non-stop in my lap as I
type this.

It is good to have the little brat back inside.

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark
--
Proof of Sanity Forged Upon Request