Seamus has personality. Seamus’s personality is often cranky, but he’s also occasionally wonderfully sweet and he is a clever, if mercurial, little grumpling. His abilities to stress us out, however, started when he was extremely small.
Seamus was known to hide in little nooks and crannies throughout the house when he was but a wee puff of feisty fur. He could secrete himself into anything and fall asleep. When Seamus was a kitten, I would often find him sleeping in my shoes, in my backpack, in my watch caps and even in Marcie’ purse .
But his worst combination of the hidey-hole habit was his proclivity to “hide-and-go-sleep.”
We would usually find him under the bed, behind the couch, or in his “sock pile of under-the-television-stand comfort.” But one Saturday, after a long stretch in the sun watching people’s runts bound about on a bouncy jump, I was greeted at the door by a tearful Marcie.
“Honey?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, my god, Frank, I am so sorry,” she moaned, hugging me. “I think Seamus got out and someone snatched him. I can’t find him anywhere, and I tore apart the house twice already.”
I knew it was going to be a long night as I stroked her back and hugged her into my chest.
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