Yesterday morning, Adam and I were lying in bed, chatting before rising to start our day. All of a sudden, we heard a big crash from the rear part of the house. While not exactly an everyday occurence, we've become accustomed to Greg House knocking over the garbage can to more easily rifle through it, knock various items off of shelves in his attempts to jump to the kitchen window, or just be a major pain in the arse in general. So this particular instance just had us rolling our eyes and shrugging, knowing we'd get to it when we got to it.
Just as we were about to continue our conversation, we heard Greg's pitiful cry echoing throughout the house, over and over again. We looked at each other; could he have hurt himself? Suddenly, images of him pinned underneath the garbage can or on the floor with a broken leg filled my head. I leapt out of bed as fast as my big self could, and ran into the kitchen. He was nowhere to be found.
"Greg?" I called out hesitantly. I was starting to be afraid of what I'd find.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a big white and black cat came racing into the kitchen, glanced at me over its shoulder, then hot-footed it down the basement stairs. Greg House came tearing after him, growling and meowing in the process. All my brain could compute was, The big holstein-cow-cat from the neighborhood is in my house! I ran out of the kitchen and started calling Adam.
"Ads! There's another cat in our house and Greg House just chased it down to the basement!" In pregnant-woman-speak, that meant Do something!
Adam jumped out of bed, ran to the kitchen, realized he didn't have his eyeglasses on so he couldn't see anything, yelled for me to find them for him, then grabbed them from me and rushed down to the basement. When he came back up, he informed me that both cats were gone. The Holstein cow had pushed in the screen of one of the windows to get into the house. A table that was conveniently located right beneath that window enabled both cats to jump back through the window to get outside.
Great. I wasn't worried about Greg House running away; he knows where his food comes from. I was more worried about him chasing this cat into the street and getting hit by a car, or getting into a fight with the cat and getting some kitty disease (our vets won't vaccinate him until his skin allergy is diagnosed and successfully treated). Just great.
I grabbed a handful of his food and dropped it into his bowl over and over again; the sound of the kibbles hitting the bowl always brings him back home. This time it was taking longer than usual, however. I was starting to get nervous. Adam called me from the front of the house a few minutes later, however. Greg had sauntered up to the front door as if just coming back from a hot night on the town. Like, What's up, bro? Adam immediately went down to the basement, restored the screen in the window, and removed the table from underneath to prevent any future breakouts.
This morning, Greg House woke me up around 6am for breakfast, but I pushed him off so I could sleep a few more winks. Usually he harasses me even more, so I was surprised by 6:37am, when Kika jumped off the bed to go outside, that Greg House wasn't right there, crying to be fed. Adam let Kika out and fed both kids. When I joined him in the kitchen, he informed me that when he let Kika out, he let Greg House in. "That little f-cker was out and about all night! He's still managing to jump out that basement window!"
I remembered that Greg had woken me up at 6am, so I feebly remarked that he hadn't been out all night, just the last half hour. Adam grunted a reply and shook his head at our boy as he snarfed down his kibbles.
Just great.
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