Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Return of the Prodigal Son, or something...

Keeping y’all (well, all 3 of you anyhow) in the loop: Maggie made it home late last night. Our plan had been to let her come home when she was ready, rather than chasing her around the crack-ass neighborhood. In the hopes of keeping her relatively safe we tried to make some visual contact with her whenever possible. Sarah saw her before she went to work, then we saw her later that evening when we were all in the living room.

I got a little skittish after dark though. I’ve watched those nasty raccoons rip a live chicken to pieces; imagine what they could do to my teensy runt of a kitty! So Sarah, Xtian and I took some flashlights and scoured the neighborhood. All to no avail, we headed home, opened all the windows with screens so we’d hear her. Sarah and I, old ladies that we are, went to bed around 7:30 or 8:00.

Xtian stayed up for a while, and luckily so! Around 11 pm, he heard some scratching, followed by a loud, high “Frrrrrow?” When he opened the door, Maggie ran and hid some more. He called and coaxed as best he could, but she wasn’t having any of it. At that point Vickie, my big girl kitty (and Maggie’s sister and life partner. Don’t ask, these bitches are inseparable), walked to the open door, sat down and yelled, “Reeeeeeeeoooooowwwrrr!” And Maggie immediately ran inside. So, all it takes is her sister yelling at her, and she’s all obedience and sweetiness. Fucking cats.

That is all.

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