I started the day as I do often – checking my clients’ Facebook pages “real quick” and getting sucked in for a couple hours. So I didn’t get around to showering until midmorning. The Boy had been gone for hours. Obi decided to head to the basement with me.
When I got out of the shower, though, someone was upstairs. I could hear them walking. Big steps. Bigger than Obi’s. Bigger than The Boy’s.
My heart pounded. I listened. Clump clump clump.
Breaking land speed records, I threw on some clothes and ran a brush through my hair. After all, there was a chance this wasn’t going to be a murderer. Ratted hair allowed to dry, though, would be a true catastrophe.
I listened as I did all this. Clump clump clump.
Finally, it was time to cowboy up and leave the basement. I rounded the corner to go down the hall toward the stairs. A grey cat jumped out of the laundry room. A big, fluffy grey cat.
He came at me.
It was Obi. Apparently he fell behind the washing machine. He had a six inch radius of lint attached to every inch of his body. It took ten minutes of serious brushing to make him small and brown again. Oh, and a ten pound kitten trapped behind a washing machine?
Goes clump clump clump.
It was nice of Obi to clean behind the washing machine for you.
This reminds me a little of the time when I was at home alone, and I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of the toilet flushing (it was, of course, a cat).
Cats seem to think that once you stop getting freaked out by the “let’s look down the hallway and seem alarmed” trick that they need to up the ante.
I may throw him behind the washing machine a couple times a year. He was quite effective.
They always get into the worst things. Sorry for your fearful experience, but thanks for the laugh!
He took care of my cardio for the day. Work out was checked off the list!