Remember the time when we were trying to break into the house because someone (clear throat) forgot her keys again, even though she swore she wouldn’t forget – just saying. We decided to wait outside and while we were outside talking you also lost your hat (it really wasn’t your day.) You went to chase your hat and dropped your wallet and you went to pick up your wallet and you saw your key right there, behind the refrigerator, wedged up next to the window.
Eventually we got in without breaking anything. By the time we got there, where we had both seen your key, determined to dig it out with a spatula if we had to, by that time, the key was gone.
Remember, we were wondering how on earth anyone or anything could get in there. The key falling in there, that we could understand, but how did it get out again? How was it sitting on the table later? Were we losing our collective minds?
Well, now I know. Somehow, my little Siamese cat who is getting old now but still apparently boneless, he can walk in behind my fridge by compacting himself down to a little wider than a postcard. Anyway, I’d thought you’d like an explanation and also like more proof that no matter how sure you are that nothing could possibly climb or jump or magically materialize into some spot – you’re wrong – because cats can.
This is my third entry for the A-Z Challenge. To be continued tomorrow, with Dogs Do.