Hallway Adventures

Dexter, who is dreadfully embarassed at having gotten locked out in the hall, doesn't want to write about getting stuck in a neighbor's apartment with a dog.

My neighbor, a kind Irish lady with a huge brown shaggy dog, found him stuck at Mary's door one floor below. Dex knew the door, but didn't know how to get back in, since it was THE apartment, but wrong floor. I didn't know the door closed behind him. About an hour had passed. Kashi was on the couch. Miss Muffin was in the kitchen, flumped and purring near the window.

After a frantic 15 minutes of tearing through each room--HOW can I not see a 20 lb black cat???--the horror dawned on me. Dexter is not here. He must be in the hall. I flung my door open. NO crying. NO yowl. Silence. Oh god, someone TOOK my Boo Face! I raced up to the top floor, began banging on doors--"Where's Dexter? Have you seen a huge black cat? Yellow eyes, one white whisker."

Nope.

Sorry.

Maybe he ran out the front door.

Visions of a squished cat under a speeding car fill my mind. Sweat begins to run.

I bolt down the stairs and see a pair of keys stuck in the door. Now I'm looking for my cat, and being a good Samaritan. Keys in the door = someone might break in OR maybe perhaps please GOD this person tried to grab a frightened black cat? I knock on the door, panicked beyond belief.

"yOUR KeYs aRE in the DOor. My GOd, HaVE YOU SEENMYBLACKCATHISNAMEISDEXTER!"

***insert lovely brogue here***

"Aw, dear. I have your cat. He's such a nice fella an me'dog likes him, too. We used t'have a cat, but n'more. Dexter's in the kitchen."

And there he was. Totally annoyed by this whole mess. Glaring at the dog (and then me) from under a yellow chair. I grabbed his back legs. He scratched my arm. He wouldn't move. The dog was REALLY happy with the new houseguest.

"He's such a good cat! He let me pick 'im up and didn't bite. Poor thing, he didn't know what t'do."

One long pull (and a bleeding arm) later, Mr. Boo is on my shoulders, still staring at the dog. A distinct look of 'I'm Never Going In The Hall Again' is in his eyes.
Back upstairs we go after some deep breaths and many thanks.

His tail is puffed out 4 inches and he's shaking. He retreats into a corner, obviously in shock. I drop food in the bowls and shake my head. The things I do for my fuzzers!

After doing dishes, sorting mail, and checking the answering machine, I grab a cup of tea and sit down with my knitting. He slinks up next to me and places his paw on my leg.

"Don't go by the door again, Boo."

He looks up at me and blinks. That's a 'yes' if ever there was one.

He drops his chin on my lap and purrs. All is quiet and well.