The October Night I Met a Cat

Last night I was walking along West 11th Street when I came across a beautiful West Village townhouse.  The first floor windows were completely open, allowing passerbys easy access see the fun cocktail party happening inside.

So, I did what I always do, and I peeked inside the house (side note: I have serious Manhattan real estate curiosity) and quickly noticed a cat poking his head out.  Why someone would have a cat, throw a party, and keep the first floor windows completely open is beyond me. 

The cat and I stared at each other for a couple seconds and then he jumped from the window to the ground and started doing a little dance between my legs.  I tried to make eye contact with one of the guests inside and when that didn’t work, I waved my hands around to grab their attention, but to no avail. 

Mr. Cat wouldn’t leave my side and I grew really nervous - was this an indoor/outdoor cat? Was he allowed to hang out on the street?  Was this normal? Not knowing the answer, I rang the doorbell, which was answered by a waiter/caterer/who knows.

Turns out, the cat wasn’t supposed to be hanging out on the street (duh), so I picked him up, handed him over to the waiter/caterer/who knows, told them to shut the windows (duh again) and went on my merry way.

I made it one block before a woman came running after me.  The owner was so thankful I had found Mr. Cat, but didn’t seem to understand how an open first floor window equaled a kitty escape artist.

No real point to this post except people who are careless with pets disturb me.