I can't believe I survived this day. I loaded up my cats this morning at 9:30 am and left the house while there was an open house that was just for real estate agents, then a subsequent showing of my house in the afternoon. My poor cats were in the car in carriers for 5 hours.
Our real estate agent's husband picked up our 14 year old dog Maggie and took her to their house nearby so she didn't have to ride around in the car all day with me. He must've spoiled her rotten - Maggie didn't seem particularly happy to see me at the end of the day! I guess that's good news.
When I pulled out of my driveway this morning with the cats, the first people were arriving to see the house. I was was sitting in a drive-thru coffee line when my heart sank - "Butters! I left Butters in the house!" How could I forget to include Butters - my 7 year old orange cat? I called David at work and we started counting cats..."You have Newman, Pella, Phoebe, Sherman...." Yes, Butters was not in the car. I called my agent and told her Butters was M.I.A. She said she hadn't seen him and was probably hiding under the bed and not to worry.
But I worried.
I scrambled home as soon as I was allowed and frantically searched the house.
Never fear! I found Butters. He was in THE ONLY room he's never allowed to go into - my youngest son's room. Because of the real estate showing, the door was open to his bedroom. The room looked like Butters had majorly partied in there. The comforter was messed up like he had tried to dig a hole. The lampshade was crooked, books had fallen over from the top of the bookcase and Butters was sound asleep on my son's favourite quilt that his grandmother had made.
He must've wondered what the hell had happened to the rest of his family - the apocalypse? Did he run through the house with scissors? Jump on the bed? Turn on all the lights and leave the room? Watch trash on t.v?
Sounds like a pretty awesome day to me.