Macho

It is hard to be a man in a house full of bitches. Poor Lolita. He spent almost ten years as my only pet, and now not only has another cat, but a crazy dog to deal with. This weekend he found his out. I left the door open accidently, and he went for freedom.

I don't know how long he was out there. It took me awhile to realize the door was open, then I had to go around the house and do roll call. When roll call came up short, I headed out. It was dark. I couldn't see him, so I turned and was going to get a flashlight. Then I noticed Lolita, standing on the fence. Then he saw me, and did that cat thing, where you turn around and pretend no one can see you. Even if you are a 13 pound cat perched on top of a fence with a white belly glowing in the moonlight. And you just made eye contact 2 seconds before.

I grab Lolita. He meows, mourning his lost freedom. A dramatic wail; a wail that could wake up the hounds of hell themselves and set the world on a... Wait, where was I? Yes, Lolita was grabbed and escorted inside. And he was dirty. Dirty, dirty, dirty. The white fur a dingy grey in the light of the house. I don't know how long he was out there, but I know he spent every second of his freedom just rolling in the dirt.

He still smells a bit earthy