(For reasons far too complicated to get into here, Rijid had to break into the apartment on Friday. He removed the screen from the living room window, and never put it back.)

So, I opened the window and went about my usual chilling out after work routine. George started freaking out for reasons I couldn't immediately identify, so I ignored him.

After 20 minutes or so, I began to imagine he sounded even more urgent than his usual kitty angst, and went to find him. He was scratching at the apartment door. Usually, I lock the door, and then he stops. This time, he immediately took off for the cat tree by the living room window and started yowling again.

That was when I finally noticed the living room window had no screen. I closed the window, and started trying to find Moo. He wasn't in the apartment.

I wondered briefly if George has been constantly trying to tell me something really important for years. Unfortunately, the cat translation of "Hey dumbass, the window is open and the other guy took off" sounds a lot like "Let's play!" It also sounds surprisingly similar to "I require immediate kitty treats or your world will perish."

I spent 20 minutes walking around the apartment complex with a flashlight, shaking a can of kitty treats.

I tried telling myself that Moo was a street cat originally, maybe it was inevitable that someday he'd want to be free again. I worried about what I was going to tell Moo's previous owner, Alys. I stressed about George's mental health. He really has mellowed a lot since Moo came. Should I get another cat? No, I think I've just proven that I am the World's Worst Pet Owner.

An hour later, I went out again. An hour after that, I went out again. Finally, at about 2am, George started crying at the door again. I reasoned that he'd been right last time, and besides, since he was now the Only Cat, he should maybe be indulged a little. I opened the apartment door for him.

If this had been a Disney movie, George would have immediately gone to the building door, and started meowing. Instead, he purred loudly, and wandered the hallway for a while. I didn't get so much as a head nuzzle for my troubles.

I wondered exactly what the hell I had been thinking. I was just about to take him back to the apartment when I heard a very faint meow from outside. I picked George up, and opened the building door. Moo was sitting outside.

Of course, Moo didn't come back inside, even when I asked nicely ("Come on, Butthead. You had your fun."). Moo is also not a Disney cat. He just sat there, staring at me. I risked putting George down (George is the good cat now? What the hell?) and picked Moo up.

He had a few seeds stuck in his fur, and a tiny splotch of green paint on his forehead, but he seemed otherwise unaffected by his adventure.


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