The Great Getaway

I would prefer that title to be The Great Gatsby, but it isn't....its The Great Getaway. Today while at a clients home doing business for her and her husband, I opened the front door to put some items out on the porch. I was aware of "Clem" behind me of which I took great precaution of due to his intent stare. Not enough precaution. I thought teenage girls were sneaky, and husbands also can sneak about, and those twins, Frick and Frack do some amazing tricks on me. But Clem, he topped my list of anxiety ridden issues lately. Clem used to get to go outside! Cats that USED TO go outside really still like to do that. And if you stop them they get very slick about how to get back out there. In fact his name should be "Slick." I know you have already guessed, Slick Clem dashed out the door at 40 mph behind and beside me. I about freaked. I had just dealt with the Mailman all the while maintaining Slick Clem as still an insider which I was left in charge of. Well he was now an outsider and he isn't mine. And I charged alright, right out the door after him. I was asked to lock the doors when I left. That meant locking Slick Clem inside and who was now outside in the Halloweenie atmosphere without his Mom's knowledge. What did I do? Panicked! And ran out the door as fast as Slick Clem did. I was right on his heals and let me say he was prancing like a Wisconsin Buck in Springtime, collar and tags dingling in the brist Wisconsin wind. Now picture this 8 x 10 black and white glossy.....me running at my age after a prancing cat all the time talking to myself, and the mailman two houses down listening to mwa as well as whom-ever else was near. I am saying, "Oh my God, help me get this critter, because it isn't mine and somehow it got out on my watch and Jeez there goes that client and she knows the Mayor and I am toast.....dad gum cat what are you thinking? Never mind I know.....and I am on your tail." I am saying all these things and more for the neighbors and the mailman to hear. Not to mention my ad is on the side of my car so I cant hide who I am! Slick Clem and I get two houses down and he stops. YES! I calmed myself and asked him politely to come here dudie dude....and would you believe that prayer I said in transit back there worked. He turned around and came right to me. I picked him up and again talked all the way back. "OK dude cat, don't scratch me, do you even have nails, or bite me, or try to get away before I get you home, Oh God Please don't let this cat jump." He didn't. All the drama was for nothing. Well not for nothing because that was trauma drama. Hey losing someones precious pet is no joke. I am taking deep breaths as I relay this on blog paper. Here's the better part....that cat was pissed at me after I deposited him inside. He looked at me and hissed. Well didn't he know I was carrying him back home? And I thought he was Slick. Not only did he hiss at me, he walked over to me with that Clint Eastwood tough guy stroll and wrapped both his front legs around my leg and hissed. I peed my pants! He had control. Then I said, "Go away cat!" (I said it firmly but kindly) He didn't, but I did!