Clementine's Day Out

My cousin W, who stayed with me for a night while heading out to the east coast several months ago, stopped through Cleveland on his way back west and used my house as his homebase for the past couple of days. I feel bad that my work-week self didn't show him more of a good time, but he was a good sport anyway. Since he stayed in all day yesterday working, I didn't think he'd have any noteworthy nuggets to discuss as we sat over dinner, so imagine my surpreeze when he casually mentioned that he had left the bathroom window open and Clementine got out. I was trying to process the words as he spoke them. But things like "window open," "on the roof," and "couldn't see her" were very confusing. My cat had escaped? She had gone onto the roof? W had had to go downstairs, find a stool, and coax her down from the awning she'd jumped on? Yes, yes, and yes.

I won't lie, I was freaking out at this story. Not at W, but internally. To think she could have run away and been lost forever is super distressing. But distress aside, it's entertaining to picture what this must have looked like. Not that I can really do it justice, because this is W's story to tell, but I'm so glad he noticed her prancing on the roof and that he, despite her not being his biggest fan, was able to get her back into the house. That she spent the next hour in the basement (where she isn't allowed) doesn't even bother me because at least she was inside. Honestly, poor W. Who knew I had such a mischievous cat? Except probably me.

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