Saturday was quite the little adventure. I decided a week or so ago that it would be a lovely idea to cart my foster-kitteh, Ferdinand, out to my parents' new hobby farm for a taste of the country life. 

After spending the better part of the day at the farm, hubby and I come back to town to pick up the kitty-in-question. Ferd', understandably, was a wee bit agitated during the 11 mile ride to the parents'.

Once we arrived, I petter Mr. Kitty, sat him on the ground, and he ran without hesitation across the road, and up a very steep, very tree-filled hill. I, being the good foster-parent that I am, raced across the road and started climbing the hill after the silly feline.

It was all to no avail. I was not able to find the cat before darkness set in, and I slipped and slid back down the hill, angry and exhausted, to mope around for the next couple of hours because I had lost our cat.

Ah, but the story does not end here!!

A few hours later, we hear a plaintive "MEEEOOOWWW" coming from the aforementioned wooded hillside. Carrying an LED flashlight, I headed back up the pitch black hill after the damn cat. I could see his glowing eyes and collar reflecting in the light, in an area which appeared to be high above the ground. Assuming that the cat had gotten stuck in a tree, I had my husband climb the hill with me to rescue our kitty-in-distress. 

Alas, the cat…the diabolical little cat from hell,  wasn't treed at all. He was toying with us. Taunting us with a "Meow! Save me!….HAHA…Suckers!!" as he ran, once again, over the hill. 

As my husband and I slid and tripped back down the slippery hillside, I cursed the cat, and wished bear-induced death upon him.

No such luck. As I type this, the cat is enjoying dinner on my parents' porch.

Ah cats. I LOVE cats.