Effie woke me up to investigate a noise she claims she heard coming from outside. Said noise was described as: “A series of random claps followed by a loud clang.” I peeked out the bedroom window but did not find any marching band trespassers. I told her it was nothing and to go back to bed. Unsatisfied, she added, “Probably prowlers from the internet! This is all your fault for telling them where we live!”
“I did no such thing,” I said.
“Well then the internet told them!”
Upon further insistence, I went out into the living room to get a better view of the backyard. As usual, Mayonnaise was way ahead of me. Effie may be the Great Cat Detective, but Mayonnaise is the Great Cat Detective.
“See, there must be something out there if fatty got up to check,” said Effie. I snapped a few quick pictures of Mayonnaise perched on the back of the love seat. “Don’t take pictures! Go see what it is.” I donned my robe and slippers and headed outside with the camera. Effie locked the door behind me. “Just in case.”
Outside it was completely dark, Effie didn’t want the floodlights to spook whatever it was. I couldn’t see anything. I moved a few feet over knowing the motion censor lights would detect my presence. The lights came on and spooked the trespasser. I heard a calamity and saw a black object run from the side of the house — a black cat.
“What is it?”
“It’s just a cat.”
“Bring it inside.”
I snapped this picture just as it jumped the fence. We’ll be seeing him again.
Back inside Effie debriefed me and shared her own deductions: “I think it’s obvious your sweet little Mayonnaise has been secretly consorting with mischievous black beasts in the night that have been God knows where. This is going on her permanent record.”