Of the two, Buttah is more interested in investigating the outside, apparently still remembering is outside romps. He scampers to either door at nearly every entry or exit by any of the human occupants. We don't use the back door all that often, but when we, or rather I do, I must be extra vigilant toward keeping him away as the back door gains him instant access to the world as access through the court-yard out back. He got by me once, be he wasn't swift enough to escape my clasp.
Some nights ago I dreamt that he had escaped via the back door. He was out and down the steps in a flash, which further proves that it was a dream. Buttah is . . . not quick. I was shaken for several minutes as he'd gotten out of sight. I called and called into the open air. There wasn't any sign of him or any tingle of his jingling tags.
Horrified, I scrambled down the stairs, scanning the area searching for a ball of orange. Growing more and more anxious as the seconds turned into minutes which felt like hours, I began to think about which pic of him would be best to post on a "LOST" poster. My heart begins to race as I see . . . orange. Around the corner ambles a ball of orange fur, excited but not wanting to scare him away, I softly call him toward me. Closer and closer and then I see, it isn't Buttah. It is another orange cat which from a distance resembles
Just as I bend to make friends with him, out from the shadows I hadn't realized existed popped Buttah, mewling his trademark rolling, nasally purrs. He looks up as if to say, "look what I found, can we keep him?"
At which point I wake up, get up to re-check the doors, windows, and the number of cats in the apartment. Ahhh, only two. . . both looking to barrel through the bedroom door clamoring for breakfast in just another hour. Buttah follows me back to bed, I let him hang with me for that next hour.
The cat I didn't want has become the cat I can't imagine a day without.