Nocturnal Disturbances

It is 5 a.m. on a holiday, and I am awake. Not by choice.

I was awakened from a deeply satisfying sleep by an unearthly noise that sounded like cats yowling at each other, right before they leaped in with teeth and claws, bits of fur flying through the air.

Inside the house.

We have three cats, all of them neutered males, but two are half-feral and live outdoors (they came with the house). They don’t even have names: we call them Tiger Cat and Other Tiger Cat. And the dogs get along fine with all the cats, so if any cat was yowling inside the house, it was not good news.

As I swam from my dreams to realize that, yes, this did need attention, my little doggy must have realized the same thing because she leaped up — barking her high-pitched, cannot-be-ignored hound dog yap.

I ran into the living room to find … nothing unusual. Our black cat was standing in the middle of the room looking affronted, but that was it.

After a moment, I realized it did seem a little draftier than usual though. And there was an unusual sound coming from the entryway: a machine sound or maybe a strong wind. I walked toward the front door only to see it standing wide open. It had clearly been open for awhile, probably all night, because it’s blustery outside, and the front entry was wet with rain.

Closing the door, I noticed my little doggy sniffing furiously at the carpet. She sniffed around the living room, in circles, then headed down the stairs. Doggoneit, I thought, one of the tiger cats is inside. I followed the dog down the stairs, where she sniffed all over the TV room, under the desk, under Tenor Sensation’s bed. Something interesting had clearly been down there.

The tiger cats are not housebroken, so I was afraid to just go back to bed. I have mentioned we have white carpets, right? If I could find both tiger cats, though, I could sleep. I decided to check the garage. When I flicked on the light, two orange-and-white cats blinked up at me with sleepy eyes from their beds.

I have chosen to believe, despite all evidence, that one of them had been in our home picking a fight with our house cat moments earlier. Because I simply cannot face the alternative. Something was definitely inside our house!

I cannot, however, get back to sleep. Instead, I sit here with every nerve fiber stiffly erect* and vibrating madly, attuned to the slightest change in sound, smell, or movement. I only wonder how the heck my family slept through the racket.

Notes:

*I wonder what traffic Google will send me from “stiffly erect”?

ETA: And now, an hour later, it occurs to me for the first time to wonder how the front door got opened. Could it have been a person who was inside, who went downstairs? Could they still be inside, maybe hiding in the basement closet? I sit at the kitchen table with my back to the downstairs, telling myself to be rational, that the dog would have smelled a person. And on the unlikely chance there really IS someone downstairs, she’ll definitely give me enough warning to turn around and face the danger head-on. Like that would make it better!