“You know Dawn, you should have brought the cat in BEFORE it got dark.”

Really? You mean that walking barefoot through the alley at eleven o’clock at night could have been averted by simply bringing in the *black* cat into the house before he could escape into the wilds of the night?

Gee. How brilliant.

Yes, Simon the bastard cat finally managed to make his escape last night (all my fault). I was wandering around the backyard looking for the little beastie in all of his hiding spots (on the leftover bricks, under the leftover fencing, behind the tree, under the patio furniture) but he was NOWHERE to be found (all my fault).

This immediately sent me back to a conversation I had with Jason not too long ago about some girl he works with. He was blabbing about how I said I wouldn’t be all that upset if he escaped. There’s now a girl at Kayak’s who thinks Simon is unloved. But that is not the case. I was completely ready to work up a few tears after I knew for sure that the little cretin wasn’t just playing hide and seek.

Tony and I both head out to the alley (me without shoes. why?) to hunt down our elusive prey. No luck. I try the front by walking down the street making that annoying clicking sound that people make when trying to get their cat’s moment of attention. I was also softly calling his name, trying to mask the annoyance in my voice. “Here kitty, kitty. Simon. Simon. Bastard cat where are you????” Afterall, it’s not what you say to a cat, it’s how you say it.

I thought I had found the demon kitty when a black cat darted across the street. I couldn’t tell if it had a red, or any, collar on, so I tried to get closer, lulling it into a false sense of security with my annoying coos. No luck; he must have sensed what was really going down and he jetted. Another bastard cat. I sprinted (every once and awhile this does actually happen) down the sidewalk trying to keep up with Jackie Joyner-kitty. He cut the corner and darted down the alley leaving me in the dust. Well if that WAS Simon, I wasn’t feeling too much love for a cat that would ditch me so enthusiastically. I feed that beast and love on him, when he lets me, and this is the thanks I get?

I met up with Tony who had now recruited Fargo’s help. I’m not sure why Fargo would want Simon back; Simon’s always had a special place in his heart for torturing the dog. What a trooper. He probably thought he was going to a late night buffet in the alley. Mmmm, alley treats.

We had just about given up (Fargo on the buffet, Tony on ever getting to bed) when something caught my eye and I flashed the light on the little escapee hanging out in the construction area behind us in the alley. He didn’t seem overjoyed that we had “found” him. He was more than content to explore this new area of nails and piles of used lumber. We were just going to spoil his fun.

So he darted off, fast bastard cat. I had to put the cooing voice on, trying to trick him into getting into grabbing and shaking range. He didn’t buy it either. Smart bastard cat. He nimbled his way between the two houses with my flashlight guiding his way toward freedom. I made a mad dash to the front (too much running) and Tony went to get cat food to lure him closer because the cooing obviously wasn’t going to have him jumping in my arms.

Tony came back armed with a can of 9 Lives (that stuff that smells like dead fish parts). Well, as soon as the top of that can popped, we had us a kitty. Mwah, ha, ha.

After intermittingly yelling at and hugging the little creep, he went upstairs to bother the dog. Today when he worked up a chorus for me to let him outside, I ignored him. He tried all the tactics: apology, blame, anger, crying, tantrum, but none of them worked. Besides, he had enough to deal with after I duct taped him to the leaky basement wall. That’ll teach him.

By the way, Jason, don’t mention this last part to your co-worker….