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a lost cat and a missing streetcar

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

As I was heading out the door this morning, I noticed that a cat had somehow gotten on our roof.

Just above the steps that separate the front and back halves of our apartment, we have a small window that opens onto the roof. There, a black cat was frantically meowing and pacing, occasionally getting its paw up onto the window. It wanted in.

So naturally I tried opening the window so that I could haul it in and take it down the stairs and set it free. But the windows don't open properly, so I re-opened the window frame with a screwdriver (the previous landlord, who lived in our unit, left the window unsealed so that he could climb out there!) and tried to coax the cat in. Of course, this took ten minutes or so, and when I finally had it in hand it gripped the window sill and wouldn't let go.

I tried a trick that works with Kenny, easing up and then slipping him free when his grip loosens, but the cat was far more wily and refused to let go. After two such attempts, I let the f'n thing go and closed the window frame again.

By the time I'd washed my hands I was already reacting to the cat (cursed allergies) and when I got to the street I was fully fifteen minutes later than usual. At which point no streetcar arrived and I spent some twenty incredulous minutes waiting.

And when the streetcar finally showed up, it was at the head of a conga line of four cars. Friggin' unreal. I was half an hour later than usual when I sauntered into the office.