Miss Emily and Butterscotch are both inside this evening, and nobody is
threatening to beat up anybody else. Nice and peaceful.

So Miss Emily jumps up on the upper counter, like she usually does when
she wants back out. Apache is meatloafing by the door, so Miss Emily is
watching her. When I walk over to the door, Apache zooms into the bedroom.

Since all is now safe, I unlock the deadbolts, and Miss Emily carefully
steps down onto the desk, then the stack of Diet Coke, then to the bin
of cat food, stopping at each step to see where Apache is.

I reassure her with, "Don't worry, Apache is in the other room." At
which point, a little calico head pops up around the corner. Miss Emily
hotfoots it out the open door before Apache can decide to slap her.


Hugs and Purrs,
Mark