That Darn Cat

The volcano-interest continues. Dada tossed Nora into the car, today, and took a field trip. Meanwhile, Mama drank a double shot of espresso and conducted The Great Toy Purge and 3T Clothing Upgrade of 2009.

A few hours in ... "Hmmm, I haven't seen the kitten in awhile." Curious searching under couches and inside cupboards led to checking the refrigerator (it happened, last week. mysteriously clanking beer bottles = curious and chilly feline). This quickly escalated to low-grade panic and a canvassing of the backyard and neighboring playground.

"Lost Kitten" posts were submitted to Craigslist. A full-color flyer was designed. Status updates were quietly called in from Dada - Nora's arrival was an hour out, then 30 minutes. Still no kitten. Mama began to practice the script: "Francis got out of the house somehow, so we're going to keep looking for her." That really wouldn't do. But it would have to ...

Mama scoured the house again, and this time ... the TV cabinet. (No, she couldn't be in there. Check anyway. Frantic, fretting.) Opened the door and a white paw stretched out, leisurely waking from an all-day nap in dark solitude. [insert much cursing and thank-godding, here]

Not 10 minutes later, Nora walks in the door, sweaty and thrilled from the day. The first words from her mouth: "Where's Francis, mama?"

And this photo explains it all: