Bad Kitty!

We've been having problems with our windows & screens since we moved in. The first problem was that there were no screens in all but one of our windows! After weeks of calls to the management company they sent out some stooge who made mesh screens out of cheap materials from Home Depot. The metal frames he used immediately buckled in the hot southern sun, leaving an inch or so crevice for the local bug population to use to crawl into our house. Not good!

So instead of calling the office to have them send the same jerk to do the same shitty job again, Rich ordered some mesh screen material and velcro strips from the Harriet Carter catalog and made our own screens. He installed them this past weekend and did a fine job. However, we didn't realize that Zorro is strong and clever enough to push against the screen and open the velcro. He did just that last night, shortly before dark, making it damn near impossible to look for him! I was devastated. Zorro is an indoor cat, always has been, and I was terrified that I would never see him again. He is a sweet, loving companion to me when Rich is on the road, and Rich loves him too, despite his general dislike of cats. My only comfort was that we never declawed him or put rubber tips on his claws, so I knew he could defend himself in a fight or climb a tree if necessary. But claws are no defense against cars, or rabies for that matter.

After an hour or two of searching the yard and adjacent wooded area with a flashlight, then coming back in to cry and think terrible thoughts, guess who comes home? My neighbor Paul was outside with his dog Keisha, and called out to me when Zorro came around the corner toward the house! I approached him slowly, calling his name. I picked him up, brought him into the house and read him the riot act. Bad boy! But I can't stay mad at the furry little bastard. So after a short, loud lecture that he paid no attention to, I put him on my lap in the recliner and we watched the Red Sox lose. That was disappointing, of course, but I'll take my cat's safety over a Sox victory any month of the year.

So how does the little brat repay me? By spending the whole day going to one door or the other and meowing at me to let him out! I don't think so...