CCCXX: Imprisoned

[Disclaimer: today's whole entry will be about Chiara.]

Normally I come home to a cat waiting for me on the welcome mat inside the house; or, that failing, I will quickly yell "Ciao!" to let my parents know I'm home and Chiara will come running down the stairs. Neither of these things happened tonight, but I could have sworn that I heard a distinct meowing as I took my shoes off. My dad said I could call Chiara all I wanted and she wouldn't come down because she was avoiding everyone today. Strange.

So I ran up, looked under my bed for her usual winter hiding spot, and didn't see her. I cross-examined my mom who said she hadn't seen her all day. I opened all the doors upstairs, called for my dear cat, and she didn't come rushing out like she normally did. Then I started panicking--did my parents accidentally leave a door open sometime today? Was that meowing I heard from Chiara outside the door?! I ran down, opened the front door, called her name, and didn't see her. Worry-mode took over.

But being the super sleuth that I am (that is actually a lie, I rarely make observations or inferences; and since we're on the subject, I never enjoyed solving puzzles), I walked into the downstairs living room, looked at the closed glass door blocking off the hallway, and saw a familiar face staring back at me. My poor baby had been stuck in the hallway downstairs for hours!!! So that was the meowing I had heard--I wasn't crazy! I quickly ran to open the door and immediately scanned the hallway floor for signs of feline imprisonment...and let's just say I found some. But at least I freed her from her temporary doom. She scampered up the stairs and finished her dinner in one go.

Seriously, guys. Living with your parents really keeps you on your toes.