One Crazy Night

The story that you are about to hear doesn't even get close to the craziness of Kerri's crazy day. But for 3am...it still made it to the crazy meter.

Think with me of the delicious deep sleep that happens well past midnight. And then, add the sound of your dog scrambling to get out of his bed one room over, knocking his head on something and scratching up the floors as his legs can't seem to propel him forward fast enough. No barks. No whines. Just dog chaos. Like something woke him up with a start and he's not quite sure if it was real or not. And then, one short minute later, quiet. Panic over. 

You're awake now, right? But why in the world is your dog looking at you like "What?! Why'd you get up? There's nothing going on!" After a quick check to see that Hadassah was ok, I pointed Gus back in the direction of his bed, where he got in and laid his head down like all was normal. Yet I was suspicious. Something wasn't right. Why would he do such a thing? 

And as I stand in our bedroom doorway, glancing with leery eyes toward our stairs, calling to Tim that perhaps he should get up to see if there was something Gus heard that set him off, I see it. Silhouetted against the small bathroom window. An intruder. 

No wonder Gus freaked out! Something was in our house! And now, I was freaking out. Although silently. No, this intruder was not human. (big sigh of relief) But what was it? Was it a bat? We are, unfortunately, experienced in the world of bats now. But experience told me this was way too big to be a bat. It must be a squirrel. But no! If that's a squirrel, then it's a mutant squirrel because that tail is way too long and skinny. Phew. That eliminated a skunk too. 

It was time to be brave. I leaned in and flicked the light on, quickly stepping back.

Well hello. Cat. And how did you get in our house?!

And now imagine the feeling of immense relief followed by an onslaught of fear. Because this cat? This poor cat was petrified! Gus must've given him the scare of his life when he wandered into Hadassah's room, and now he was panicking. He flew from our window, across the floor to the counter where he managed to turn on a tap in his haste. That propelled him forward, flying into our shower. Once there, he apparently thought climbing on our frog pod was a great means of escape - a thought short lived as the frog pod detached itself and bath toys, shampoo and body wash came crashing down along with the now insane cat. 

With Gus locked in our bedroom and Hadassah safely tucked away behind her closed door, I see that Tim is near and I hand over the job of getting the cat out of the bathroom to him. With a warning that he might want a sweater on in case the cat gets his claws out. I ran downstairs and opened all doors wide, and a minute later a ball of grey and white fir dashed out the front door. 

Whew! That was an intense 6 minutes! Our hearts still raced as we crawled into bed. And our discussion turned to how we must never forget to close that crack in the screen door that was left open during the day for Gus' in-and-out pleasure. 

Ever.

Again.