My brother and sister-in-law’s three cats are up to so many antics that Little Brother keeps a blog just for them. Our cat Millie is much more boring. One reason is that we know cats are nocturnal, so she’s not allowed anywhere near the bedrooms at night. Her designated bed is actually an old Phillies towel on top of the dryer in the laundry room. More often than not, we let her stay in the family room where she loves to sleep on the back of the couch.
Last night around 11, I started looking for Millie to put her to bed. No sign of her. It occurred to me that I hadn’t seen her all evening. She is an indoor cat, and unlike the male cats we used to have, Millie makes no effort to make a break for freedom when she sees a door to the outside open. I was pretty sure she was somewhere in the house. I looked in every room, then in every closet and eventually under every bed. I drafted Mr. B, HS and HS’s friend who happened to be over into the search. I checked the attic, and the basement storage area. No cat. I did manage to find a hand towel that’s been missing for months–it had fallen behind the washer. HS found it, too, and went one step further and actually fished it out. I finally gave up and went to bed, pretty sure she’d turn up in the morning. I was a little concerned that something had happened to her, but it didn’t keep me up all night (I’m still pretty sleep-deprived from the Olympics).
Sure enough, around 7:30 this morning we heard a meow outside our bedroom door and then the door rattled as Millie head butted it. Mr. B suggested a line of questioning along the lines of “Where were you on the night of August 20th?” but she’s not talking. BD swears she was under her bed, which has so much junk under it that I figured the cat wouldn’t have bothered trying to find a spot. I meant to get a flashlight and double check, but never got around to it. Next time I’ll get the flashlight!
