  ...may be in order for my cat. You see, Max, our two year old coon mutt, came out of the closet this weekend.
How he got into the closet remains a bit of a mystery. Sometime on Saturday, Max went missing. This isn't terribly unusual as he has an eerie 6th sense for discerning when a window or door opens in the house and proceeding to bolt through it. Morning came, evening followed. And by Sunday night, we had not seen Max at all. Heather began to become worried.
He may go tomcatting about (as best as he can, since he is fixed) but he always returns to the house to eat. Sully his paws by eating a bird? No way. Jimmy Cat will do that. Max fully enjoys his status as a semi-house cat. Monday morning I was awakened at 6am by a rather loud cat meow. Frustrated that I had been awakened so early on a day off, I threw on my bathrobe and proceeded down the stairs to let the cat in.
Only the cat wasn't there. Heather had a similar experience. She kept hearing Max when she was in her bedroom, but he was never at the door. Sometime around lunch, she was cleaning and opened the closet door. Out popped the cat, disheveled and irritated, but no worse for the wear. So insert your own inappropriate joke here. We all have. 
