All morning I heard strange cat noises coming from the front yard. I figured it was one of the neighbor's three cats, white fancy cats that roam outside on fine days. (They ended up with three when one kitten went missing and they got a replacement brother for the remaining cat. Then after three weeks, the original cat returned.)
So of course I turn to Twitter to express my concern:
Weird cat noise going on outside. Someone trying to imitate a cat? Or one of the cats in distress?
Then, with a bit of nostalgia:
Actually sounds a bit like a squeaky swing set. Makes me wish I had a swing.
My concern deepened after an hour or so:
Cat noise stops when I go outside to investigate; begins again when I come in. IS THERE A CAT IN MY HOUSE?
Then paranoia set in and I blamed the construction crew down the street, with whom I've been having a running argument over parking:
I think the workers 2 doors down have devised a new way to torture me. STOP THE CAT NOISE, you can have the parking space back.
Finally I applied logic and decided it wasn't a cat after all:
Sparky doesn't bark at the cat noise, which means it probably isn't a cat. Or else he's stupid. WHAT IS IT?
All afternoon, no cat noises, and no cats in sight after our walk, when I usually let Sparky run off lead down the cul-de-sac, provided I see no white cats about.
Then my husband came home. Hearing his motorbike, I decided Sparky was well-behaved enough to greet him outside, so I quickly hooked up the long leash and headed outside, just in time to see a white cat come streaking out of the garage.
Where he'd been trapped all day.
Fortunately, the lead got stopped by the motorbike's front wheel, or else Sparky might have had a face full of scratches and a mouthful of fluffy white fur.