So What Did You Do With Your Sunday Morning

RRRRRAAAAAAOOOONNNNNNN

RRRRRRAAAAAAAOOOOOOONNNNN

What in the hell is that? I looked around and listened.

RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOONNN

Max? (the cat that Stinky and Redhead left behind) How in the hell did Max get inside? (I knew it was him. He has a very distinctive meow - which isn't a meow at all ... he says "raon". Friggin weird cat.)

So I got out of my comfy cosy computer chair - where I had made a very comfortable ass imprint - and went to go get him and shoo him out the door. I emerged from my cave (aka the computer room) and called to him.

Kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty! Maaaaaaaaaaxxx. Here kitty kitty.

Immediately, the floor answered me RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOONNNNN.

It was deep throated, a distress cry and he called over and over again. He was stuck under the house. My first reaction was DAMN IT! HOW'D HE GET UNDER THE HOUSE???? my second was THAT FURRY LITTLE BASTARD, LET HIM STAY THERE FOR A FEW MINUTES. and my third and final reaction was DAMN, I GUESS I BETTER GO GET HIM BEFORE HE TEARS SOME SHIT UP. So I turned around to put out my cigarette and again I hear

RRRRAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNN.

...and then it struck me....the cat wasn't under the house...he was in my VENTS. The reason that the floor answered me was because the furry little bastard was IN my floor.

THUMP THUMP THUNK tick tick tick scratch RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNN

He had traveled across the room to the other vent and proceeded to scream in kitty language "GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!!!!! AND COULD YOU AT LEAST TURN OFF THE HEAT - IT'S BURNING MY FACE AND CHAPPING MY ASS"

I panicked. Holy SHIT!!! That was the only thing running thru my mind at this point. I ran and got Charles....or more to the point, I awoke him gently by barging into the bedroom and yelling excitedly CHARLES! WAKE UP! THERE'S A CAT IN THE VENTS. WAKE UP!!! YOU GOTTA GET HIM OUT!!!! ....because I'm considerate like that.....and ran back into the den to listen to Max cuss at me in a whole new language.

OH SHIT!!! What should I do???!!!! ... and then that little voice inside me spoke..you know the one...the one that you want to slap the shit out of for making you feel stupid in times of crisis..... "Get a screw driver you dumb shit. Undo the screws, remove the vent and the cat can crawl out of the ducts." I nodded my head "Good idea" I said to the voice.

Normally, finding a screw driver in my house wouldn't be a problem. Charles keeps a liberal sprinkling under each sink so "They are there when you need them"....but I had had enough a few weeks ago and told him to get them out from all the cabinets before the baby got them and stabbed himself in the eye or his cute little baby belly...and like a good man he did it....he dutifully took them all out to the locked shed....and put them in the locked tool box...and I was shit out of luck when I needed a screw driver.

The voice said "butter knife" and I nodded my head again and set to work. I laid the vent beside me with the screws and called to him again and again and he swore back at me again and again...and then CHARLES THE BEAR emerged from the bedroom and he was not a happy bear...but to give him credit he looked at me as kindly as he could and said "Listen to him...he's hurt or something....I may need to shoot him when we get him out."

My jaw dropped.....

To Be Continued