Like this:

It was a hot and humid morning in June.  The kind where the sun bears down on you at 9am and the moisture in the air would make even the straightest hair curl.  I was hard at work at my morning chores–laundry, dishes, and scooping the cat box. 

In the midst of my obligations, I opened the door to my second-floor porch to dispose of the necessary waste in the outside bin. 

Curious as ever, my gray kitty jumped at the chance to explore the porch, which I let the cats do on occasion under my supervision.  (Luke loves to investigate and watch the birds; Phoebe is pretty much in a constant state of “petrified” and doesn’t venture outside much.  Both have much respect for the porch since things can get noisy quickly, living next to a highway, and they usually dart in at the slighest disturbance).  So I obliged his feline interest and went about my duties.

Within a few minutes, the heat and humidity had begun filling up my cooled apartment.  I called Luke in and shut the door, feeling the overworked air conditioner breathe a sigh of relief.  I finished tidying up and soon my sweetheart came over to pick me up for a surprise date. 

The surprise wound up being a fun trip to the mountains to pan for gold and go sight-seeing.  It was a beautiful day, and the breeze had picked up, making the heat a little more bearable.  We were gone for several hours, exploring and driving the scenic mountain roads, returning just before dark.  After unloading the car with some groceries for dinner, we settled in to a lovely tv program, and were laughing about the day’s adventures.  When all of the sudden he notices something.  A distant hum.  Or howl?  My ears perk up.  Was the baby next door crying again?  “I’m going to find out where Phoebe is,” he says.

Phoebe!  My mind races.  I hadn’t seen her yellow fur and big golden eyes since the morning, but since she likes to hide in her favorite spots, I didn’t go to lengths to search for her when we got home.  She always emerges when she’s ready for affection or play time. 

My thoughts flash back through the day.  There was only one place she could be.

I open the porch door.

“Phoebe!”

Little yellow fur looks up to me with wide eyes and fearful expression and darts into the porch closet, where it turns out she’d spent most of her day (thankfully in the shade).  With some coaxing, she came out, and we brought her in to some water and much love and head scratches.  She was beyond ecstatic to be with her humans again.

Poor Pheebs.  So quiet and demure.  She didn’t even cry out for several minutes after we were home, probably so as not to disturb us.  It’s as if she were saying “Um, please, um, somehow I, um, outside, can you, um, the door, um, please?”

So glad we found her and that she was safe.

Now if only her purrs could translate into what exactly her adventurous day entailed.

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