Jeez.

So its getting close to 12:30am, and I've spent two hours searching for my cat. He had gotten out earlier, but we caught him and dragged him back in. When everyone was getting ready to go to bed, my mom asked where he was, and I figured he was just somewhere in the house. Then my brother points out there is a window open in the dining room... with no screen on it.






We checked around the backyard, called his name; not a thing.






Zach and I drove around the block a couple times, scouted the main road by our house and check a few streets around our own. Nothing. We walked the same streets we drove and called his name, still nothing.






I was getting bent out of shape because Carter had never been outside like that on his own. He's an indoor cat for more than one reason, and I like knowing he's safe here.






We gave up after two hours and sat out back. Zach was smoking and we were just sitting there when we heard his bell. We waited a few more minutes and heard it again.






We called his name, and he started whining. He could hear us but couldn't find us, and that makes him upset. He does the same thing inside too.






Zach walked to the other side of the street to the house behind us and went into the backyard (its a vacant house, so no biggie) and low and behold, there was our cat.






It's frustrating when he gets out because he's so young and whatever. Plus, there are some people on our street that are not so nice and made issues about animals before. I just feel safe with the little bugger here.

I love my kitty =]