The other night was emotionally exhausting. I was in a possible breakup with the Russian (still not sure) and I thought V and I might have head lice (we don't). Both stories for another time. On top of it all, I had a long day at work. I pulled up to the apartment in the late evening and I see our indoor cat, Harrison, sitting on the sidewalk outside. Naturally, I freaked. After having our previous cat die, I can't let anything happen to this one. I can't put the boy through it. Immediately, I jump out of the car, leaving my purse and phone inside. It was a few days out from the big snow, so I was wearing these big, pink Hello Kitty rain boots. As soon as I get close to him, he takes off down the sidewalk. I had to run in these ridiculous boots. He ran about four houses down and up into a backyard. On my street, all the houses are up on a big hill. There I was, huffing and puffing, running after this cat. He wasn't going to evade me. Finally, I corner him in a backyard. Gradually, I get close and coax him into my arms. Judging by the growling, he wasn't thrilled with the situation.
He felt lighter, which gave me pause. What if it wasn't him? But, he was right outside the apartment. One sure way to tell was his tummy. When he walks, his tummy hangs down. I like to give it a jiggle when he walks by. So, there I was in a neighbor's backyard, feeling up a cat's stomach. It jiggled. It had to be Harrison. As fast as I could shuffle, I made it back to our apartment.
I had two doors to get through. Somehow, I made it through the front door. By the time I got to the door of our apartment, there was a lot of low growling and fidgeting. I yelled for Viggo and kicked the door with my foot. That's when I heard the meow from inside the apartment.
"V, is Harrison in there with you?" I yelled.
"Oh, shit, don't open the door."
That's when I got a good look at this cat's face. It was not Harrison. It looked absolutely terrified. As fast as I could, I opened the front door and let it go. Just in time because V came bounding out in the hallway.
"What's going on, Mom?"
"I just accidentally stole someone's cat" I sheepishly answered.
I'm sure there's some kind of moral to this story, I'm at a loss for what it is. Maybe it's every cat has a doppelgänger or never assume a cat outside your residence is yours. Whatever it is, I felt like a supreme jackass.