To many of you this will be a familiar title because of the science
fiction story of the same name.

but this time it's real!

Spock is a cluey cat (understatement), whose obsession is to get
outside and assert his predatory dominance over the local wildlife
(small birds and lizards).  For precisely those reasons we keep both
him and Persephone confined to indoors.  

I was out shopping yesterday morning (eugh - Christmas madness!) and
came home to find him waltzing around outside, proud as punch.  I
successfully lured him into my clutches with the time-honoured formula
of "puss, puss, puss, whoseaprettypussythen" and hurried him back
indoors, reassuring him all the while that he's a very clever cat to
come to me when called.  I wandered around and closed a door that the
builder had left open, then settled back thinking that was the end of
the matter.

All's well. I get on with the myriad of chores that tend to accumulate
around Christmas when I spot, out of the corner of my eye, a grey
Spocktator slauntering around the verandah on the outside.  "??" says
I (expletives removed), "how'd you do that?" Spock sticks his
metaphorical tongue out at me and continues to hunt eastern forest
dragons (incredibly cute lizards and smaller than their name
suggests).  

I think carefully; Spock is not going to be lured into my arms a
second time, since the first time only earned him a trip back indoors.
Since he is safe out of doors (even if the wildlife aren't), I spend a
few minutes trying to figure out how the hell he managed to get out of
the house through closed doors.  Good grief - science fiction come
true - the cat can walk through walls and has only now got bored
enough to demonstrate it!  "phooey" squeaks the rational section of my
brain (for once the rest of the brain is quiet enough that I can hear
the rational side; it's usually drowned out!).

I bring Spock inside, by virtue of the builder starting up a band saw
and scaring the living bejeezus out of Spock ("lemme in - it ain't
safe out here") and then try the cunning tactic of following him to
see where his inter-dimensional escape door is.  He, obligingly, leads
me straight to it.  My rational brain glows in triumph - there is a
perfectly rational explanation ("phooey" sulks the rest of my brain,
"romance and fantasy are dead") - there is a small gap in the wall
between the old part of the house and the new extension - no more than
3/4 of a foot (~20cm) wide, that is usually blocked by a piece of
masonite.  The wind yesterday blew it down, leaving a perfectly
cat-sized gap between Inside and The Great Outdoors; a gap which took
our genius moments to find and miliseconds to exploit.  *sigh* It took
me more than half an hour to chock that piece of masonite back in the
gap so that it was no longer prone to falling.  I hope the builders
finish soon!

Tish