I know the pictures ruins the mystery,
but this story…I just have to tell it.
Last night, when my husband Justin fell asleep in my daughter Paige’s room putting her to bed, my other two daughters, Chloe, Tessa and I piled into mine and turned on a show on Netflix,
when suddenly our cat Seuss was going crazy outside of the bedroom door.
Meowing, and pawing, clawing under the gap.
It was so extra I asked Tessa to just let him in.
When she did he was all over us,
not settling, still meowing.
As quick as he came in, he pawed to be let back out, and right after we did, he was wanting back in again.
We chalked it all up to him being a psycho,
but an hour later when he hadn’t stopped crying and pacing, it suddenly dawned on me that he’d done something similar the other day when he wanted us to let his best buddy,
our other cat Ozzy in.
So at 1am, I looked through the house and confirmed that Ozzy was not inside.
I opened the screen and called into the night, but he didn’t come running like he normally does.
Just as I was about to give up and go back to bed, I could swear I heard his very faint meowing, so I called again, and yes!
There it was!
But it was not getting any closer.
“Tessa,” I hissed to my 12year old, who was almost asleep, “come help me look outside for Ozzy. I think he’s stuck somewhere.
Maybe a tree or the grated culvert.
Grab a flashlight and put your shoes on.”
Out into the night we crept in the dark,
arguing over which direction his meow came from.
“I think it’s this way,” I whispered as we crept, and that is when Tessa turned the flashlight and gasped.
“He’s in Maggie’s car!”
Maggie.
Our neighbor.
The one who saw us digging and brushing off a frozen pork loin from our garbage and saying to go pre-heat the oven.
Her Tibetan prayer cloths were probably hung strictly because of us.
Poor thing.
She just wants chimes and breezes.
There was Ozzy’s face pressed hard against the inside glass.
Sensing his rescue, immediately purring.
Only we couldn’t pull him out of the tiny crack.
I have no idea how he even got in there.
“He looks like that scene from Zootopia,” Tessa said, “When they go to that place where the animals are wild and get injected.”
There we stood, wondering what to do.
Do we chance trying to get her car door open?
What if there’s an alarm?
What if she sees what looks like us breaking in?
It’s like we just cannot be normal neighbors.
I hated to wake her, but I had no choice,
so I went to her door and knocked lightly.
Not wanting to scare her with a flashlight pointed at her door, I told Tessa to point it at our own faces.
Now,
this is the part that makes it important to tell that last night after I’d had my shower,
I decided I wanted my hair wavy today,
so I had braided it in about 9 spiky, wild,
small braids.
So, there I was looking like White Coolio,
like a human model of the Corona Virus,
with a flashlight shining towards my face at 1am, as if I was trying to be a ghost-story telling camp director.
I cannot even imagine what Maggie thought when she finally cracked her door open, and saw us there at 1:30 in the morning.
She kept repeating a confused,
“He’s in my CAR” over and over.
Poor thing was probably barely awake trying to find her mace and car clicker.
But, we freed him,
and as he ran in Seuss looked at us like he could not be more disappointed.
We were up until 2:00 laughing at the pictures.
I bet even Mr. Rodgers wouldn’t want to be our neighbor.
This article was written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
