Last night I got home early. Anything before midnight is early for me so that’s not much of an accomplishment, but I got home REALLY early: 5:30 p.m. Why so early? I didn’t have a soccer game; I didn’t go to the gym because Pete’s out of the country; I didn’t go to the coffee shop because I’m done with my summer class; I didn’t stay late at work because I was sick of sitting; I thought I’d see what it was like to get home BEFORE the sun started to set. And a surprise or two awaited me.
As I pulled into the Court that I live on, I usually cruise right past the first building, around the second one and park by the pool. However, last night, there was something going down in the first building. Obviously. With two squad cars and a Crime Scene truck parked out front, I almost pulled over right then and there to find out why the cops were hanging out in my complex. But, you see, that would be sticking my nose in other peoples’ business. So I went home, but by the time I parked in my spot, I had made up my mind that I was going to saunter back over there on foot and look into the situation.
Just in case I lost the courage to inquire, I brought my wallet with me and thought, “You could always just continue on your merry little way to the 7-11 for a Slurpee.”
But guess what, internet? I actually walked straight up to the two police officers who were talking (and laughing) outside one of the cars. Amazing, right? After reading yesterday’s entry, you were certain that I was too gutless to approach somebody all on my own, weren’t you? TAKE THAT. Here’s how the conversation went down:
LRE: Was somebody robbed?
COP1: No, it was a medical call. Do you live here?
LRE: Yep, that building right there.
COP2: Are you single?
They were profiling me and come on… can you blame them?
I then continued on and bought a Slurpee because it was 90+ degrees and that sounded nice.
Remember how at the start of this little blog entry I mentioned that there was a surprise OR TWO when I got home? That little discussion with the cops was number one and here comes surprise number two.
When I got back home with my Slurpee, Minyo greeted me at the door all demanding and needy. This is not typical. Usually Pogi requires all of the attention until I toss him and Minyo a few kitty treats and start making dinner or getting ready for bed. However, there was no little Pogi to run under my feet and hiss when I stepped on one of his paws. Strange.
I checked the litter box to see if he was working on some business back there. Empty.
I checked my bedroom to see if somehow he had opened the door and then shut it behind him. Empty.
I checked the bathtub to see if he had jumped in and tried to turn on the water. Empty.
I checked the bookshelf to see if he was hiding out behind any of my myriad of novels. Empty.
I checked under the couch and even in the coat closet. Empty.
I even opened the fridge. No Pogi.
Somehow, that little kitty ran out the front door when I left to chat with officers and I never saw him do it. Cats are sneaky, but not THAT sneaky. Clearly, I’ve lost my aware-of-streaking-white-furballs skills. So now I was out on the little porch area calling “kitty kitty.”
I used all of my tracking skills that I learned in one of the clubs I started with a cousin when we were little. It was prompted after reading a book about a Native American boy who tracked animals for food – or something like that. I’ve read so many novels, they all mix together in my head. Maybe it was actually prompted by one of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure novels where I chose to track a grizzly bear and ended up dead on page 126. Back to my Pogi tracking.
I had no clue where that little cat would run off to. So I walked a little towards my neighbor’s balcony area, but didn’t really want to walk in front of her sliding glass doors in case she was watching me being worried about a little kitty. It’s just a cat, right?
Just as I neared her front door, it started to open.
Great, I thought. Now she’s going to feel somewhat bad for me because I’ve lost this little kitty and remind me that at least I still have Minyo who doesn’t have claws with which to climb the shower curtain or the couch.
Surprise number two: she was holding Pogi.
My immediate thought: um, did she go into my place and pick him up because she wanted to play with him for a little bit?
Silly Larrie. Pogi did indeed sneak out when I left to investigate the cop situation and before long was crying by the front door. Sweet neighbor girl opened the door to see why the cat was being so loud and the little guy ran into the safety of her condo. She then called the real estate agent in the model home to see if he had my cell phone number and he told her that he just saw me walking back with a Slurpee in my hand.
We then exchanged cell phone numbers for any future cat crises.
When I meet new neighbors in my complex, after explaining which condo I live in, they always reply with, “Oh the one with the beautiful cats.” Yep, that’s me; Larrie the Cat Lady. Sweet.