Here, kitty kitty.

The people upstairs got a cat. That's fine; I like cats as much as the next guy. But I fear for the wellbeing of said cat, since these people are not, erm, the sharpest knives in the drawer, if you get my meaning.

I had my window opened a bit earlier tonight (due to the fact that my apartment is hot enough to qualify as a principality of hell), and I heard these girls calling to this cat. Yes, they had the cat outside. Ok, cats like being outside as much as the next animal, so that's all good. But they were basically just letting the cat wander. "He's not going to run away!" they said. I was skeptical.

I had to go to the library for a while tonight, so as I left my apartment, I found two of the girls calling to the cat. Who evidently was under my car. And they didn't know how they were going to get him out. Right-o, then. So as I said, I worry for this cat.

And now I'm going to have to make sure I don't run him over every time I go someplace.