I headed out bright and early this morning and was greeted by a mess of tools on the garage floor. Weird. I assumed they just fell. But it got better. As I was getting in my car I found a small pile of poo next to my tire. Luckily it was not rodent-small. It was definitely of the feline variety.
I did what anyone would do. I called my husband and asked him to get rid of whatever it is. During his lunch break, he came home (he always comes home for lunch so I didn't make him give up his lunch or anything! I'm not that big of a bitch.) and shook some boxes in the garage. Out popped a cat and off he went. Problem solved, right? Wrong.
After doing some much needed shopping, I came home around 3. As I was letting Colby outside I saw a little kitty face pressed against the patio door, crying to come in. I'm a sucker for animals and they all know it. Of course, I went to my yard and gave him some water and food. He followed me into the garage, back outside, and even into my shed while I found the animal carrier.
After very little coaxing, he went into the crate and I took him to the humane society. He was skinny and hungry so I'm glad that tonight he's eating and drinking and safe.
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