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T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o

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Ham-dini�s Great Escape

2004-09-16� � 5:41 p.m.
Last night somewhere between opening the door to see if it was the Thai delivery guy and opening the door again to pay the Thai delivery guy, my cat Hambone escaped.

In his usual flees into the hallway (a.k.a., Mecca with carpet), he slithers himself lovingly around my legs, waits until the door is open, knocks me slightly off-balance with an especially aggressive snuggle, and then makes his way past my front door as I try to balance my library books, dry cleaning, and stack of stuff to take to the post office. He knows that it�ll take some time to put everything down, giving him more time to smell the hallway�s smells and feel the hallway�s carpet beneath his furry feet.

Sometimes I even give him a little freedom and escort him into the hallway for some supervised playtime. He rolls happily on his back, I rub his belly, and he purrs a content purr with his eyes half-closed. If he were a human, he�d certainly drool, much like Homer Simpson encountering a pitcher of cold Duff alongside a stack of butterscotch pork chops.

However, this time there was no knock-over nuzzle or noticeable, bullet-like darting into the hallway as made his way out. If he had tip-toes, he�d have been all Hamburglar-style with his pointer-claw to his mouth, pantomiming �Shhh!� as left the condo�s premises.

Damn sneaky cat.

You think I would have noticed that I ate my tofu noodles with no 15-pound feline vying for a sniff at my vegetarian vittles.

You would think I would have noticed that I didn�t get a less-than-amused response to the Britney Spears CD blaring in the living room as he sulked and went to the bedroom for auditory refuge.

You�d think I would have noticed that he didn�t come around for his nightly belly-rub and affection in the hour after dinner but before I retire to the bedroom to read.

Yes, you would think that I would have noticed that the animal I love so much would have been missed while he was gone.

Halfway through The Royal Tenebaums, there was a knock at my door. I don�t know my neighbors, they don�t know me, and the Thai delivery guy was long gone at this point.

I peeked through the peephole to an unfamiliar face and opened the door cautiously. (You can never be too sure about those young women in hipster glasses who come knocking on your door at 9 o�clock at night...)

As the door opened, there was no Hamburgler-ing, sneaking around, or slipping in slyly about it. Hambone immediately plopped into my hallway and resumed his majestic lion pose as if he hadn�t been wandering the hallway for a few hours.

I was the fourth door knocked upon after she caught Hambone trying to enter the elevator. I could see him now, nonchalantly making his way down several floors with the other passengers, past the security guard, and through the two heavy doors that lead to outside.

After gaining his freedom and rolling on the dirty sidewalk, he�d exclaim, �Free at last, free at least! Thank God Almighty, I am free at last!�

However, after ten minutes on the street without finding a rainbow leading to a bowl of Friskies, Hambone would be done with that adventure crap and be scratching the first of the two heavy doors to get back in.

Damn cat. Like when your parents forced you to volunteer at the soup kitchen on weekends, maybe a day outside would teach him to appreciate what he�s got.

Now we�ll just have to see if the few hours were enough of a deterrent for his to avoid escaping again... �



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