The reason cats are so pissy is they’re God’s perfect killing machines but they only weigh eight pounds and we keep picking them up and kissing them.
Leslie and Marissa were busy organizing Leslie’s craft corner (more like a third of the total real estate) in the garage. Leslie will donate a lot of her rubber stamps and supplies to a worthwhile organization and Marissa is giving her virtual pats on the back for each box in the donate pile and the trash pile.
But Clooney wasn’t having any of it. We had the door from the house to the garage open a crack and he decided he’d had enough and took off running. He made it outside the garage in the blink of an eye after running through the obstacle course of junk in the garage. Three voices yelled “Clooney” and Marissa was quick to follow him past two driveways to a little bush. His nose was twitching as he smelled the fresh air of freedom.
Clooney is an 11-year-old indoor cat and has managed to escape one or two times for a minute each. And each time, Leslie understandably starts to panic. Until Thanksgiving, Clooney had never met another animal (except maybe at the vet’s office). On the holiday, Marcy and Mark brought their Chihuahua, Miguel. The dog and cat were sniffing each other for hours. Even me, not an animal lover, could appreciate the cute factor.
I don’t know why Clooney feels the need to be outside, except for maybe what he’s learned from his genetics. He has it made in this house, for sure.