Type B has a pet.

This probably isn't going to be very interesting.

I probably shouldn't open a post with that.

But a few days ago, our neighbor across the street told us that he'd had a cat in his back yard for three days and asked if it was ours. Really fluffy. Grey. Very nice cat. Looked to be a show cat, he said.

My interest was piqued, but not enough to actually want a cat. No sir.

Three days later, the cat came to our house!

..Not a show cat. But really fluffy. Grey. Very nice.

And much to Harper and Henry's excitement, she stayed the whole day!

Harper took to calling herself Harper Fluffy Kitty and rolling around a lot.

Henry stood at the door and talked to the cat.

We had to go out the back door every time we wanted to go anywhere, because the cat would try to get inside when we'd open the door.  She thought she was home.

I was worried something fierce about this cat. Clearly an indoor cat. Clearly lost for quite a while. Clearly wanted to be our cat.

Back where I come from, this is now.. our cat.

But it's not.

And I tossed and turned all night thinking about the cat curled up on our side porch on our door mat.

Brandon reminded me multiple times that this is, quite possibly, the fluffiest cat in history so she needed neither A. A pillow. or B. A blanket. ..both of which I wanted to take out there.

I also considered taking some baby food out there for it. Since we didn't have anything a cat would really be able to eat.

I've never actually had a cat. I don't think it's necessary to say that, at this point.

The next day, I fished out my least favorite Fiestaware bowl (burgundy. yuck.) and gave the cat some water.

My resolve was fading. I knew I was mere hours from steering a cart onto the pet food aisle of Harris Teeter.

And for two hours, she walked around the yard, all cute and friendly-like, while we all played outside.

I took fortyleven pictures. The cat did not look this terrifying, but these were the only two I got of her face.  Out of fortyleven. Seriously. In retrospect, it appears I was a few inches from getting a claw across the face.

Also, let's talk about the Valentine's Day mantle display, which includes both Christmas tree greenery and mini pumpkins. Or not. Maybe we shouldn't talk about that. Maybe just the cat. In a defensive stance.

I planned to annoy any and all Facebook friends who have not yet blocked my mommish updates with a four alarm alert about this lost cat. I imagined it going viral. Obviously.

And then the former city-dweller in me said to to myself, "Self, check Craigslist."

And I halfheartedly did, knowing it would lead nowhere.

But it did! There was an ad about this lost cat! From a week ago!

After a flurry of texts and emails and calls, after much jubilation in general, we found the cat's family.

Turns out, the cat's people are our age, have a 3.5 year old little girl and a baby. They live close to us.

Obviously, Lacey the cat thought she was home. ..Or at least found a decent replacement, as it seems a cat would do, but she happily abandoned my burgundy Fiestaware as soon as she saw her 'dad,' and hopped right into his arms.

Case closed.