I’m sorry I stole your cat

So last night I’m on the phone with the sheriff’s office when a car pulls up and a stranger approaches our house. The lady quickly approaches in tears and starts asking about our outdoor cat. She describes it in explicit details while wiping her eyes. I excuse myself and tell the officer on the phone that she can cancel the 2 week property watch I was scheduling.

Being slow on the uptake, and after hearing several sobbing, "I’m sorry"s, I prepare myself for the words, "I killed your cat." Of course, had I remembered why I was talking to the sheriff’s office in the first place, the story would have been instantly clear to me. See, 15 minutes prior (roughly 11pm), Tommy calmly came downstairs and told me, "someone just came up to our porch, crouched down like they were sneaking, then saw me through the window and ran back to their car and drove off." I start thinking that maybe talking to Say Uncle about improving our home arsenal would be a good idea. I prepare myself for the worse and walk outside expecting to see toilet paper in the trees or maybe the kids sandbox missing. I couldn’t find anything. Maybe they were scoping us out. That’s when I called the sheriff. They immediately put us on a property watch and promised a cruiser would go past the house several times in the night. But my concern was for my family’s safety while I’m incommunicado in the West Virginia mountains next week. The sheriff transfers me to another department which schedules property watches for up to two weeks. That’s when this lady approached my house. I have to say, it was comforting having an officer listening in while our conversation began.

As it turns out, one of her 10 cats went missing about two weeks ago. Her pet psychic explained that the cat was ok and still near her house. Ah! The pet psychic. That certainly explained how she was able to find a dark gray cat on a county road (ie. no street lights), on a moonless night with the porch lights turned off. She showed me a picture of her cat which was strikingly similar to my cat. Mark points out that she probably knew how to find the cat by remembering where she took the picture during a previous day.

I ponder offering to let her keep the cat but she breaks into explaining that she knew it wasn’t her cat when she got home and it started acting strange. Ok. That translates to "she start tearing things up and peeing everywhere." That would be because she’s feral, a huntress, and abhors the indoors. She literally would rather be out in a tornado than come into the house (that’s a real example!).

I’m sure the cat was in her trunk and she was just going to release it but saw the porch lights on and knew she was busted. So she offered to go get the cat and bring it back (ie. drive out of sight, get the cat out of the trunk, make a U-turn and come back). I have to say I was impressed with how she held the cat to her and didn’t get shredded into a bloody pulp. She handed her to me and I took her with extreme trepidation! This is the cat that has killed a rabbit, squirrels, and two bats. I like my arms!

I suggested that her pet psychic could still be correct and told her about the crawl space access in the abandoned house on the corner where my animals have been trapped before. She went on her way and after a little debate, I called the non-emergency number to cancel the night’s property watch and explain to the sheriff that the stolen goods had been returned.