NEW CASTLE —
Where does all my stuff go? I blame the cat.
I swear, I put a crisp $20 bill in my pocket. Now it’s gone. Disappeared. Vanished.
That was my lunch money for the week and the money for my daughter’s school party. How could I be so clumsy, so irresponsible, to lose $20?
I bet it was the cat. She is always slinking around here, hiding under things, waiting to attack. I can see her now, with all her catty friends laughing at me and frivolously spending my money on yarn and tuna.
I had two pens in my pocket — one black and one blue. They were really nice gel pens. Now they are gone. I know somebody took them. It had to be that lady at the front counter at work this afternoon. Or maybe it was that cat again.
The TV remote was just sitting on the coffee table, plain as day, gleaming in the light from the TV. Now I'm stuck watching old reruns of Animal Planet, because as everybody knows it is next to impossible to get up and manually change the channel. At least I'm not stuck watching a marathon of Bob Newhart. Where is that cat?
My daughter is always losing her glasses. Every day it’s a struggle while getting ready for school to find her glasses in spite of the rule that they go on the counter in the kitchen before bed. I bet the cat is hiding under the bed right now reading the New Castle News, looking all studious with her glasses.
There always seems to be misplaced hair ties, homework papers and toys. For some reason, the cat is always nearby. I see the telltale white paws or a furry tail sticking out from under the couch or table revealing her hiding spot. I believe that cat is a thief, a cat burglar if you will, but everyone thinks I’m crazy or making a joke.
A few months ago, I lost my keys at work. My co-workers and I searched high and low. We started looking in stupid places, like under the copiers and in the trash cans. Out came the accusation of who was playing the practical joke. We toiled in our search for nearly 45 minutes until I discovered the keys piled up with my work shirt — right were I left it. That night my wife went and picked up our new kitten. Coincidence? I think not.
My wife had accused both me and my daughter of taking her ear buds that she uses with her laptop. We both pled our innocence and I, of course, knew I was being framed by the cat. I just had to prove it.
Later that night I was sitting in the living room, silently working on my computer, when I saw a black silhouette prancing down the hallway. As the shadowy figure entered the light of the room I could see it was the cat, but what was this? She had something in her mouth. It was the tangled green wires of my wife's ear buds dangling from the cat’s mouth.
I had caught her in the act! Everybody though I was crazy, but it really was the cat. I had seen it with my very own eyes. I followed her to the corner behind the couch and found her stash. She had several socks. The plastic rings from gallon milk jugs, a pen, and a couple of cat toys.
No sign of my $20, although her breath did smell of tuna.
NEW CASTLE —
Where does all my stuff go? I blame the cat.
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