It had to happen sometime. Thisbe, the shyest, most scaredy of cats, stepped out onto the front porch to take the air this morning. When she sees a person, car, dog, delivery truck, she wants back inside. Now! Scratches on the storm door, with her tail the size of a baseball bat. I want in now.
Somehow, the front door got closed, and we couldn't hear Thisbe's hysterical scratchings. An hour passed. I had an aha! moment when I realized, eeek, Thisbe was still out on the porch.
Except she wasn't. My tortoise kitty was no where in sight. But I heard meows. Looked around. Couldn't see her. Looked some more. Ye gods! She is two doors down on the neighbor's porch. Neighbors that have a cat but aren't home. Bawling her head off. Looking right at me. Won't budge.
Yell to S.O. to help with the situation while I race upstairs to don something besides immodest pajamas with an uncertain waistband (read, old and stretched out and liable to fall at any moment). Good for cooking breakfast but not for racing around the neighborhood.
By the time I had changed clothes, S.O. appeared with Thisbe. He had to physically deliver her back to the house. Now, Thisbe hates to be picked up. Some long-held antipathy, but she let him carry her (without scratching) back home. She came in (tail as big around as the proverbial bat), and had lovey time. Calmed down. Probably ate a lot to further calm frayed cat nerves.
She's still reposing on the entry hall floor, eyes enormous, but a more relaxed posture. Saturday morning adventure! For all of us.