8 Lives Remaining

Tuesday night consisted of three and half hours spent climbing around barefoot on neighbor's branch-/tree-choked and feeble garage roofs in the pitch-black with flashlights, drawing suspicious accusations from adjacent neighbors, my legs precariously busting new holes into the roof up to the knee at least three times, my hair tangling up in groping tree-branches ala the escape scene through the woods in Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and then a horribly sleepless and worrisome night except for three and a half hours post-6am once Franny finally appeared at my door again and I was able to lure her back upstairs 45-minutes later with Zooey.

I think having cats may be even worse than having children--at least kids aren't quite so skilled at scaling trees.

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