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Grabbing our bags and turning off the last of the lights, Megan and I head toward the front door. As she opens the door, she lets out a scream.
"What are you screaming about?" I asked, annoyed because we are already behind schedule.
"There's a cat!" she says and looks behind her to where I am standing in the doorway. "I think it went in the house."
"Are you sure? I didn't see it. I would have seen it go in front of me." At least I think I would have. But it WAS dark.
Megan turns around and adamantly says, "I know it did. We have got to find it."
I turn the light on, and we both stand there scanning the open living area. "I don't see it."
One of our neighbors owns feral cats, and we are not very fond of them. They come upon the porch and furniture, use our landscape as a litter box, and are very skittish. All we have to do is look at them, and they take off running.
We leave the front door open, and I make a hissing sound, thinking I will scare it away.
Nope. It saunters off the couch and goes under the dining room table. "Open the back door, and I'll see if I can shoo it out the door."
Nope again. It goes under the library table. I try to scare it out by stomping my foot on the floor.
Nope. It now makes its way to behind the loveseat in the living room, which is very close to the front door. "Ok, I'll try again, and you make sure it goes out the front door.
Nope. This time it goes under the TV cabinet in the living room and peeks its head out. It just sits there and looks at us like it belongs here. "This must not be one of Cheryl's cats," I said, "because nothing is scaring it."
We were both a little afraid of picking it up for fear of being scratched, but Megan reaches down, pulls it out from the cabinet, and sends it out the door.
This is not the way we expected the day to begin. Obviously, it was someone's pet, but I just hope there isn't a superstition about gray cats coming into your house!