Cats in the Belfry

I woke up today to silence.
Complete and total silence.
When you live in a 1000 square foot house with three cats…it’s never silent.

So I jumped up and started moving from room to room calling for them…nothing. And it clicked.

Kitty door into the garage. Those fuckers climbed the gazebo posts I’ve been storing against the wall and got into my attic. Well, Kikimama and Stormy came down IMMEDIATLY. Knew they were in trouble. Came down and tucked tail and assumed positions on the buffet and piano.

Sambo was nowhere to be found. I was calling. I was calling inside and calling outside, though there was no way he could be outside…I finally moved the gazebo thingys, pulled over the ladder, Thank GOODNESS I hadn’t returned it to M’Lynn yet, and got my phone and flashlight and climbed aboard. I’d never been up in my attic yet and let me just say, I’m an itchy scratchy insulation filled girl right now. It’s filthy up there. But I was calling and flashing and calling and . . . . nothing.

He was just gone. I knew it. I got nary a me nor an ow. I called my dad while in the middle of crying like a fool, and screaming at the big cats, “you just left him up there to diiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee!!!!!”…i’m not always so based in reality you know…anyway I asked dad if he could be in a vent, or stuck in a wall or whatever and while he was assuring me that was impossible…KERFLOP. Out sticks this little black face looking at me like “what the fuck ma? I was napping!”

assholes.

all of them.

and that was before nine a.m.

what the hell would I /will I do if I ever have human children???????