Oh. My. Stars.
I leave from my backdoor nearly everytime I leave the apartment, and come in from the front when I come home. And everytime, Gandalf plays a game - runs to the door, and won't let me leave until I rub his belly.
Only today, he slipped out. And I didn't notice.
Until I came home.
"Where's your brother?" - Me
"I dunno..." - Atticus
"What, he's not here?" - Mae
I looked everywhere in the apartment - under the bed, in the bathroom, the closets, even the fridge - he was nowhere to be found. But I did hear a faint little "meow..." coming from somewhere. Outside.
I looked out, and there he was, huddled under a little table on the deck. In a wet little ball.
For the first time in my life, I think my heart stopped beating. He was outside all. day. Alone. And we had a thunderstorm earlier.
I feel AWFUL. Poor little guy! :( But, he's fine. Hungry, and pretty much back to normal. He doesn't seem to have been affected by his little adventure, although I don't think I've recovered yet.
My mind hasn't stopped racing about what could have happened. My neighbour's dog...the raccoons...other cats...cars...non-cat people...
I need a stiff drink.