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The feline escape artist strikes again

Space Cat is at it again — although, in true Space Cat fashion, I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose. It’s either an accident or his wickedness asserting itself. He’s made of equal parts hair and evil; he can’t help himself.

One recent evening, Jerk Cat was doing what he does best — napping on the top of the bookshelf where he’s perfectly positioned to both survey the entirety of his domain (the living room) and bask in the sunlight or breeze coming in the front window. It has the added benefit of being too high for Rescue Kitten to reach yet. I moved everything off the bookshelf, because he shoved anything I put up there off until I got the message. He spends entire days on the bookshelf, only moving to either stretch or reposition himself.

I want to be reincarnated as a cat.

Anyway, Jerk Cat was lounging on the bookshelf when his ears perked up. Two seconds later, he went full-on Halloween haunted house mode: bristling fur, arched back and I-mean-business yowl. He was staring out the window into the darkness. It was a jump-scare, horror movie moment. Something evil lurked outside, and our stalwart defender was warning us.

“Silly cat, there isn’t anything out there to be afraid of.” The Long Suffering Husband picked Jerk Cat up and looked outside.

Unconvinced, Jerk Cat hissed.

The LSH put him down, but a few minutes later, he was at the window again, hissing and yowling. This time, something hissed back.

“Who on earth would let their cat outside?” It was getting dark and ready to storm. Even the wild animals were holing up and letting it pass over.

Sassy peered out the window. ” … is that Space Cat?”

“What?” The Professor has not yet recovered from Space Cat’s 30 second excursion a few weeks ago.

“Has anyone seen Space Cat?” I asked.

“I’ll go outside and look,” Sass said. “Professor, go upstairs and see if you can find him.”

Sass and I went out to investigate. About the same time we found a window screen lying on the lawn, we heard the Professor through the open window: “What happened?”

“He must leaned on the screen,” I said. “It popped out and he fell into the bushes.”

The Professor hurried downstairs to look for his wayward cat, and we were joined by the LSH. Armed with a brace of flashlights, we began searching.

It started to storm. Heavily. Because of course it did.

“I found him!” The Professor, unmindful of the dirt and how very lanky he’s become, wedged himself beneath the bushes, where Space Cat was keeping dry. Like I said: The cat is evil. And an escape artist.

The Professor emerged triumphant, if a bit scratched and dirty. I checked the cat over, but despite falling an entire story, he was unharmed.

It’s almost as if he has the devil’s own luck.

(Wallace-Minger, The Weirton Daily Times community editor, is a Weirton resident and can be contacted at swallace@pafocus.com)

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