It was a dark and stormy night...

...And that's how all mystery stories should start...

*Ahem*...

It was a dark and stormy night... when Cleo gave me an early licking, a Sunday night face wash usually reserved for Monday morning. Not just the nose, you see, the whole tired face. No sense trying to put her off, she's done when she's done, and that's it.

I yawned, and glanced at the clock... 1:54 am, it proclaimed. So I got up to answer nature's call, wondering why God made our bodies to be this way.

After a thoroughly satisfying pee, I closed the bathroom door, and slipped under the covers... Guess what...?

"Cleo and the Cat Door Stasis Theory... Reprise". I awoke, 20 minutes late! My alarm clock (Cleo) failed to wake me with the usual gentle headbutt I get each morning at 05:40AM. (Yes she can tell time, she's never more than five minutes off the mark, days shorter, or longer).

I hear the alarm clock yowling, locked in the master bedroom bathroom! She must have been in there all this time! I never saw her go in! Did Velvet alert me to this! Her poor sister yowling for help in the dark?!

I look at Velvet... Snoring on the bed.

Cleo did not hiss at me, or anything. She had got on the toilet seat, pulled a towel off the rack, and placed it by the door to pee on. (Smart Cat!) She spent five minutes telling me about how tough it was, and she shed a load of fur, so she must have been upset, poor darling.

Velvet was still snoring on the bed.

Cleo jumped up, and so did I, and I attacked "Miss Snorey!" The 'Vet was not amused. Too bad.

Cleo got a Sirloin Roast Beef treat (the girls at the supermarket always want to know why I only want 150 grams of it... "Er... Ahh... it's for my cat, not me..").

Don't teenage girls have the cutest laughter?

Don't 42 year old men have the reddest faces walking away from the meat counter?

Cleo is fine, she has made it through her ordeal with unwanted snuggles, kisses, and, worst of all, pick-me-ups. All of which were far worse than the four dark hours locked in the washroom.

Copyright © Bill Mason
September 26, 2001