Princess Puddin’s big adventure

I had to nudge Mum out of the way so I could get to the keyboard to share this story. She’s just a little put out with me after my adventure, though as you read on, I think you’ll find she’s the one at fault.

It all started when Dad was up first one morning. When Mum came downstairs minutes later, she immediately asked, “Where’s Puddin’?” She knows I’m usually hovering near the food dish waiting for my milk as the coffee’s brewing. Not this morning, though.

Thus began the search for Princess Puddin’. They called for me upstairs and down, looked under beds, in closets, behind TVs, in desk drawers, and all over the house. Mum thought I might be in the garage as she’d gone down there the night before looking for her phone. So, they looked throughout the garage and workshop and even came back down with flashlights to search the nooks and crannies.

One of my previous hiding spots

By then, they were getting worried and wondering if I’d somehow gotten outside.  I’m an indoor kitty, and yes, I do hang out by the doors and attempt to sneak outside from time to time but rarely get more than a foot or two before I’m yanked back inside. Still, they wondered.  Heck, they even asked the dog where I was as if Banjo knew or cared. So Dad  set out to search the great outdoors.

Pretty soon, Dad called Mum to say, “Come downstairs.”  He was in the storage area off the garage where he’d discovered me tuckered out and tucked away in a small bookcase.  I yawned and let them carry me upstairs.  Adventuring and spending the night in the garage can wear a kitty out.

Of course, they’re still wondering why I never let out a peep the first two times they searched the garage calling me. I may eventually reveal how I spent my night, but for now, I’m enjoying keeping them in suspense and hearing them imagine what I may have been doing all night.  They’re discussing several possibilities: 

• I was on assignment from National Geographic to locate and catalogue the artifacts buried down there. In addition to coolers, bicycles and bicycle gear, excess furniture and boxes of Grandma’s keepsakes; there’s a treasure trove of dust balls, cobwebs, sawdust, buckets, nuts and bolts and nails—everything a little kitty could want for an evening’s entertainment.
• I was on an NSA mission to shred Mum’s stash of articles, training materials and more. Not many folks are aware of my ability to shred papers by chewing, but it is one of my several talents. Dad says he’s sure he’ll eventually find a pile of carefully chewed secret documents.
• The more mundane explanation is that I briefly wandered the garage and then meowed to be let back in the kitchen.  Given that Mum had gone to bed leaving only Dad near the kitchen, it’s likely that when I cried, no one heard me. (You can draw your own conclusions about Dad’s hearing.) Then, miffed at being ignored, I found myself a cozy nook for the night. 

No matter which story they land on, they see the final outcome as me being miffed and then finding the most out of the way place to hide.  How else to explain my silence as they called and called? I think I was within my rights to be miffed; don’t you?  Is being locked in the dungeon any way to treat a calico Princess? Never mind that I may have enjoyed my big adventure. They’ll never know.

Fan mail for Princess Puddin’ may be sent to The Ink Penn