June 28, 2013 – Yesterday, I wrote in my journal about a cat burglar terrorizing the area and I suspected that our family feline, Sugar Plum, might be the culprit. Does she sneak out at night? I followed through with my plan of spying on her with my infrared binoculars. She “supposedly” sleeps each night curled up at the end of Mom’s bed. To get the best vantage point, I dragged our old wooden ladder under Mom’s bedroom window, but I wasn’t anywhere close to where I needed to be. That’s when I called in Sawyer and Peaches. Sawyer, climbed to the top step of the ladder mumbling something about why in God’s green earth she allows me to rope her into ‘harebrained’ ideas. (I take offence to the term, “ideas”. They are hypotheses!) And then, Peaches climbed on top of her shoulders. They looked like high wire walkers from the circus, all wobbly but not falling over. I got a severe case of the giggles. It was very unprofessional of me and my crime-solving partners were not pleased. “HAPPY!” Sawyer admonished in the sternest whisper I’ve ever heard. “Hurry Up!” I scrambled up and over both of them until, standing on tip-toes, I could see into Mom’s bedroom window. It was very dark except for the clock radio that boldly displayed the time; 3:02. I pulled the night goggles up to my eyes and focused the lenses. I had just started to scan the room when Peaches lost her grip on my ankles. “I can’t hold you anymore!” she panicked, and one by one our chicken chain toppled to the ground. Thankfully, the ladder missed us but the sound woke up Mom. The bedroom light came on and we saw her silhouette in the window. “Thunder must be rolling in,” she said before turning it back off. Nuts, I thought; foiled again. I looked back at the window once more before heading to bed. Two neon green eyes penetrated the darkness as a disgusted voice drawled, “Ridiculous chickens”. Sawyer pecked me on the back of the head. “See! It’s not her!” Whatever. Cats… how rude.
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