Funny Boy

Our younger cat, Stitch, is just a few months over a year old, and he's quite a character! He loves to cuddle at bedtime and will climb up and lay in my arms while I'm reading, just before I turn out the light. On the other hand, he can be very arrogant and demanding, meowing at us until we let him outside. And other than a mid-day cat nap, he spends much of the day outside, prowling his domain.

Lately when I come home from work, it's been his habit to greet me as I open the car door and, if I'm not careful, climb into or on top of the car--I'm always afraid I'm going to shut the door on a paw or a tail.

Stitch tends to come in and out of the house throughout the day, but mostly he spends his time outdoors, and it's not unusual for us to not see him until it's time to bring him in for the night. And when that time rolls around, I step out onto the front patio and whistle for him, and usually he comes running--if not right away, then just as long as it takes him to run home from wherever he's gone off to explore.

I spent a busy day today, cleaning house, grocery shopping, and cooking; Hubby ran a couple errands and visited his brother, and he arrived home for dinner, about an hour after I returned from doing the grocery shopping. We ate dinner together with the Wild Child and then we all separated to do whatever we had planned for the evening--for me, that was doing a little sewing in the Sweat Shop.

Throughout the evening, I heard loud "party noises" from the house behind ours; the later it got, the louder it got, until yelling and loud banging erupted around 11 p.m. I don't know if the police were called, but soon afterward, the party dispersed and the neighborhood quieted down.

I started thinking about Stitch and wondering where he'd been all evening. I admit I was a little worried he'd wandered over to the party and been hurt or scared. I went out to the front patio and whistled. No response. I whistled a few more times and again got no response, so I returned to the house. I went back outside about 15 minutes later and whistled again. Still no Stitch. Hubby came out and stood next to me on the patio, looking around.

In a minute or so, Hubby said, "He's in your car."

"What?," I asked.

"He's in your car. Stitch is sitting in your car," Hubby replied.

Sure enough, there he was, sitting on top of the center console, looking at us and meowing to be set free. The silly cat must have snuck into my car when I got home from grocery shopping six hours earlier! And believe me, after he developed this tendency a few weeks ago to try to get in my car, I've become pretty careful, but I never even saw him tonight, and neither did Hubby when he got home an hour later and parked right next to my car.

Needless to say, we're glad it wasn't a hot, hot day, because that darn cat would not have survived. And all things considered? With that crazy party going on, maybe he was safer in my car anyway. But one thing's certain, I'm going to have to start doublechecking the car whenever I leave or arrive home.

And as I'm writing this, Stitch just jumped up on the desk to let me know it's time to go to bed and cuddle. After all, he's had a rather stressful evening.