On 12/14/2013 8:37 PM, Mark Edwards wrote:
Whee!

Little Boy ran out the door when I opened it to see who was knocking at
the door (it was upstairs). Usually, he runs out, then goes around to
the opposite door and lies down to wait on me, so I took my time to get
food for Chollie. I put crunchies out for Chollie, and saw Little Boy
prancing around the courtyard. Well, I was in shorts and a tshirt, so I
went after Little Boy, which resulted in one fulkl round of the
building, in 40F degree weather.

So I went back in, put on jeans (still wearing a tshirt), grabbed a
flashlight, and went looking for Little Boy and hoping nobody called in
a "strange man with a flashlight" report to the police, because I had
beer on my breath.

I've only had that happen once to me, and trust me, the guy wasn't
looking for a cat. He was just a creepy old neighbor; there was a power
outage and he said he thought I might not wake up in time to go to work.
Why he thought that was his business, I don't know. I read him the
riot act when he got me out of bed to let me know there was a power
outage. No kidding, old man. I knew that because I called the office
to find out if it was open. It's not.

I don't appreciate intrusive people. This guy was a harmless old man.
But single women don't appreciate that sort of intrusive or
protectiveness unless we ask for it.

I walked around the building at least three times, saw Little Boy
several times, and he ran off each time. Finally, I had a great idea -
Little Boy is morally unable to resist an empty lap, so next time I saw
him, I turned off the flashlight, sat down on the (cold, wet) ground,
and sweet talked him until he sat in may lap.

Awwww!

I got up and walked to the door, telling him that running out was bad
behavior the whole way back to the door.

Once inside, he gave me his entire repertoire of "I love you, please
forgive me" moves on the door shelves. This involved a lot of
upside-downy heads, head butts, tummy rubs, love nips and nose kisses
(from both of us), as well as an extended game of toss-and-fetch the
bottle cork. He did most of the tossing, while good slave that I am, I
did most of the fetching.

I told him what a brat he is, and that I love him even when he's a brat...

LOL! A wonderful (if not chilly!) cat tale.

Jill