Mr. Gray Tiger

It's Tuesday January 9th, my Birthday ended 1 hour and 15 minutes ago.
I just got done praying.
For a cat.
Mr. Gray Tiger
I watched the Buckeye's game at a buddies house.
Come home.
Have an odd feeling.
Things have been moved.
A very small burglar with little forethought or need for money has been here, and has played with our candles.
Check the house and all is well.
Meow.
What?
Meow. (beat) Meow.
There's a cat.
Under my bed.
But I don't own a cat.
Yet I have one.
We play. I don't want to scare him or hurt him.
We play cat games as he decides if I'm cool.
We play cat games with me on my stomach and him under the bed. Cat patty cake. Meow staring contests.
I give him milk because children's books teach us that cat's like this.
I come up with a name for him (Mr. Gray Tiger but mostly I just call him Kitty Cat).
I'm not very cool.
I pick him up and pet him.
I begin to carry him to the door.
He's obviously someones cat, he's playful and declawed and likes milk.
But maybe that parts not evidence.
I carry him some more.
He freaks. Makes weird Pet Cemetery noises and twists and wiggles and claws as I pet him and then just hold on as loose (not to squish) and tight (not to lose him to run around) as I can.
I let him out the door.
Hides beneath my car.
Bolts out the garage door.
free
That was weird.