CSI: Arlington, VA

Life in the Boomer Lane sometimes wonders what Miracle the Cat does at night.  LBL knows that she patrols the property and that she (LBL) will very, very occasionally be greeted in the morning by a dead baby mouse on her welcome mat (Now Husband husband shrieks each time that they must immediately get rid of the mat, as though it has now become infected with some form of Ebola.) or even more rarely, a tiny dead baby bird.   But in almost all cases, Miracle meows to be let back in at some moment in time that exactly coincides with LBL’s finally falling asleep.  LBL will ignore her until she walks around to the back of the house where the bedroom is and stands at the window and makes sure that LBL gets up.

Last night, she stayed out all night, a rare occurrence.  No meowing, no scratching at the door.  LBL let her in in the morning.  What was even more surprising was that there was no dead Baby Something on the front mat.  LBL left for an appointment, then returned.  That was when she saw it: an animal collar lying on the front porch.

The collar was very small and had a tiny tag.  The tag read “Cosmos.”  This had much the same effect on LBL as finding a strange pair of shoes on the porch.  Who is Cosmos and how did he lose his collar?  Collars of that kind don’t just detach by themselves.  Did Miracle and Cosmos have a terrible fight and the collar somehow came off?  Not possible.  LBL would have heard the screeching.  She has heard other forms of screeching during the night that sound like Miracle is being attacked by a band of the animal equivalent of Hell’s Angels.  On the other hand, Miracle could be the leader of such a marauding band.  LBL have no idea.  She only knows that Miracle is always alive and well whenever she comes back into the house, and she has never, to LBL’s knowledge, worn a leather jacket or a bandanna.

This leaves LBL with only one possibility: Miracle and Cosmos are having some kind of wild feline affair, and Cosmos denuded himself in the process.  This is really disturbing to LBL, sort of like finding one of her teenagers with a member of the opposite sex in his or her bedroom when she wasn’t around.  It is even more perplexing as Miracle was, many years ago, neutered.

While LBL was contemplating how such a thing could have occurred, an email popped up on my neighborhood list-serv.  It declared that Fergus (she is not making this name up), a golden lab, had suddenly disappeared overnight.  Now, her brain raced with non-sexual possibilities.  Were Miracle and Cosmos in cahoots with others to do Fergus in?  Did Cosmos lose his collar in the ensuing melee?  Was there really a rogue gang of cats in the neighborhood, led by Miracle?  And, more importantly, why was LBL spending time on this when she could instead be reading about the failed attempt to assassinate Ahmadinejad or how Ali and Roberto both felt it was love at first sight?

A follow up email brought LBL back to reality.  Fergus had been found, safe and sound.  Then LBL realized Fergus may have information that he isn’t revealing, about the events that transpired last night.  LBL started to think that she should email Fergus’ owner to get any details about the disappearance.  Instead, she slapped herself in the face to bring herself back to her senses.  It worked.  She basically don’t care what happens during the night, or what she finds on the porch in the morning (unless it’s a cop, holding Miracle in handcuffs).  Just let her sleep through it.  Please.