It only takes one person...

I hadn't seen Francine for days and was getting a little worried. My lady friend neighbor was visiting and asked me where my little cat was because she hadn't seen her. When I said I was nervous doesn't she end up tracking down the owner to inquire where "Francine" went. Ha. Come to find out her name is Isabella. I rather like that name to be honest with you. Isabella was trapped in some bitch's house for about 4 days until someone saw her, said where she was from and persuaded the greedy jerk to let her go. Isabella/Francine went screaming home and won't come outside anymore. He said she usually cries at the door to go out and now she just sits in the kitchen all worried looking and when the door opens she won't go anywhere near it. Girlfriend is traumatized. I mean, she came in my house all the time and a couple times I even closed the door to keep the cool air inside while she stretched out on the tile, but the second she was up hovering around the door or asking to go back out, I opened the door for her. Not for nothing, but the neighbor I doubted cared about her started saying how she meows to go out and then had a really stricken look while he talked about her crying at someone else's door while they ignored her pleas and kept her hostage. He looked further tortured as he talked about her never wanting to stay inside this long before so he knows this has really upset her. I guess everywhere else they have lived, she's worked the circuit without anyone worrying about one person laying claim and taking her from the rest of the group.

That seems to be a thing around here. My neighbor B couldn't find Tornado for the longest time. Tornado always comes when called and if he's to far off to hear you, you know he'll be back at 10 p.m. on the dot for B to take inside for the night and feed. Night after night Tornado doesn't come home and B is freaking out because he loves Tornado and while I can't talk cat, it's pretty obvious Tornado has a thing for B. Soon everyone is freaking out about Tornado. The neighborhood got together and whenever someone was home, you'd hear them yelling for Tornado or asking if anyone had seen him yet. I'm talking to The Prophet and in passing he mentions The Beatles neighbors got a new cat that seems really unhappy to be living with them which comes as no surprise when you consider their make up.

Side Note: The Beatles neighbors are awesome. It is a crazy old woman and her even crazier son who live together. You see her here and there and while she's always nice, she'll usually say something totally unexpected that makes the gears in my head crunch together in an unsettling grinding euphoric manner. I see her on occasion and her latest venture was to model her "new wardrobe", every last stitch at the same exact time. We're talking about fifteen layers of clothing, that was clearly meant for a man. It all ended up being the clothes of her other neighbor (a male) who had been staying at a hotel while they redid the wiring of his apartment and no one knows how she got into the apartment. The son is very clearly out of his mind and says the most rancid of things to his mother. He rarely comes out of the house. When he does emerge it's wild eyed and bushy haired and the sighting only lasts a split second. He slowly cracks the door, peeks out, and then once he confirms there is no eminent danger he swings the door open all the way and just stands there glancing around like a startled bird until he can't take it anymore and slams the door shut. I have startled him twice while bringing the paper to The Prophet but I still can't figure out how he didn't see me coming while peeking through the crack so I'm not certain what type of threat he is looking for while peeking out or how he is missing my menacing adult sized form right next to his door while partaking in said peek. The best part about this odd couple and the reason behind their nickname is that any time you go by their house, you will hear The Beatles. It could be 2 in the afternoon or 3 in the morning and I have found the time coincides with volume. During hours that are reasonable to hear music playing "we all live in the yellow submarine, the yellow submarine, the yellow submarine" will be but a tiny whisper coming from their home. If it is a totally inappropriate time, Love Me Do will be shaking the very street. Like I said... awesome.

I enquire about the cats color and he says it's a dark gray. Tornado has been locked up in crazy land for almost a week. I tell The Prophet everyone is looking for the cat and would he please let crazy town know? The message is passed along. The son screams obscenities at his mother, frees Tornado, turns up The Beatles and all is well again in the world of crazy and cat.

Just goes to show you that sometimes the need to hold something captive not only ruins it for the rest of it, but mainly it produces a disturbed little cat who no longer enjoys the freedom and friendship it was once able to cherish with all of it's furry busted heart. And that's sad. meow meow