Regular readers of this blog will know that Madame Padre and I are cat people, just one cat short of being crazy cat people. One of our cats is a long-legged ginger sass-face called Luigi, who is a frequent adornment on my wargames table. At some point, he got the nickname of the Fell Catbeast of Mordor.
Seven weeks ago, Luigi asked to go out on a warm night, and never showed up for breakfast the next day. After a few days, we put posters around the neighbourhood. No luck. On Monday morning, during my morning run, I took down the last of those posters, and started thinking of the epilogue I would write here for a cat that I had gotten quite fond of. Half hour later, over breakfast, I heard his distinctive meow in the back yard. Who knows what he was doing for seven weeks, or where he was doing it. Perhaps, as someone said, he moved in with Ms. Jones next store to make us miss him, and decided to come back when he knew he could get anything he wanted out of us.
Well, it’s started. I tried to do some painting this evening.
Nope, Imma lie on your arm. (He did this all the time when I was writing an MA thesis a few years back).
No paint, just admire my cuteness and pet me.
Tired of your arm, imma sleep on your paint table now.
Well, he’s back, and I couldn’t be happier. I may be less productive, for a while, but I couldn’t be happier.
Curious creatures, cats. If he could talk, I wonder if he would tell me what he did for those last seven weeks.
Blessings to your furry friends.