Out ran my little kitty. I shouldn't really say little. Prior to this ordeal he was a massive 15-20 pound cat. He'd lost some weight and obviously thrilled to be free. Amazingly he was none the worse for wear.
I imagine he sustained himself on some of those fat mice he likes to present as gifts. He must have snuck in the last time the shed was open unnoticed.
Aside from uncharacteristicly rubbing himself on the dog and kids and the scarfing down of bits of this and that, he's good. I'd imagine I'd be pretty happy to be home myself.
And, by the way, don't let the cat out. Just in case. After adding this to his long list of ordeals and near misses, I'm not sure just how many lives he has left.
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