Piggy-backing on Gina's post about cats and the stuff we put up with for them, let me tell you that I spent about 45 minutes after work today (on my birthday) trying to coax Addy out of the basement ceiling. He found a way to scale the boxes stored in the closet and wiggle into a wee little opening that leads into the actual ceiling.
My poor mom was frantically trying to coax him out with the coveted "treats" when we arrived home from work.
Il n'etait pas necessaire, as the French would say. He was quite happy up there. Still, I was freaked out enough to try to scale the boxes myself and prod him out with a stick so he wouldn't find out how to really burrow into the guts of the house.
Yes, there were a few anxious moments and a bit of sputtering. But how could I get mad at that little face?
(He's snoring as I write this, by the way. I love when he snores.)
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