When I came home tonight I petted Natasha who was at the door. It took me three or four minutes to realize Keiko had not accompanied her. I went to the back door and opened it, figuring she might have been locked out all day. I called and called. No little black body came trotting furiously towards the door, squeaking in excitement.
"Is she on the bed?" I yelled upstairs to John. No, he replied and started opening and closing doors. I began calling her name again to see if she was hiding from us just to be cute. No response. I allowed a spark of worry to jumpstart my imagination.
Then I heard John laugh in the bedroom. "Guess where she's been?" he called down with glee. I dashed upstairs and found him pointing to the chest of drawers. A cat-sized imprint on my stack of pants told the tale. John said she started making little cat chirrups when I called her name so he opened the drawer and she climbed out, happy as a clam. Apparently, when I pulled out some pants to wear this morning she'd hopped in, and I'd been so tired I didn't even see her. I closed the drawer and went off to work. She spent the entire day sleeping in the dark. I'm sure she was perfectly happy. Natasha probably came and sat in front of the drawers to keep her company part of the day.
I have got to start getting up earlier.
The Index
Next Incarnation