From time to time, I cat-sit for our neighbors. I don’t mind doing it — it’s not like it’s too much work to put out some food and treats, change the water, and give out some loving. They used to have two cats: fluffy grey Murray and orange striped Rascal.
One day while the neighbors were away, I discovered Rascal prowling through the front yard. Both cats were indoor cats, and I had no clue how Rascal had escaped. My grandmother went for the neighbors’ house key, and came to help me chase him down.
I managed to grab Rascal a yard or two away from home. As I carried him back, he made it quite clear that he was not interested in being held OR going home. My grandmother opened the door and I set Rascal down on the doorstep, figuring he would just walk inside.
My mistake.
He stood on the step and refused to move. My grandmother helpfully smacked him on the butt a few times to encourage him to return home. Instead, he did a quick about face, darted between my grandmother’s legs, and bolted across the street. The chase was on!
I chased Mr. Rascal through several yards before I finally caught him and hauled him back. This time, we went into the house and closed the door before I let the cat go… only to see the REAL Rascal sitting on the couch.
We had been chasing the wrong cat. A Rascal-impostor had led me on this merry hunt, while the real deal was still safely inside.
And as if this story can’t get any sillier… my grandmother, while looking for the key, had stopped to call our neighbors and tell them what was going on. She left a message to say Rascal had gotten out, and another to tell them that it wasn’t Rascal at all, he was safe and sound.
Too bad she dialed the wrong number. Twice!