The Cat Is Out Of The Bag...
Not mine - found on 'net Heh...no, I'm NOT revealing any big secret (oh, my, it IS appointment season, isn't it?). Anyway, I was just reminded of this when somebody used this phrase on Facebook. Years ago, when I was getting ready to go to seminary, Lori and I lived with my mom in a big old farmhouse. Every fall we got, as you would expect, tiny visitors looking for a warm place to spend the winter. I hate trapping mice, and when you get a couple, well, let's face it, you end up with a LOT of mice... So, next spring we decide it's time to get a cat. Now understand, I'm not a cat guy. I'm a dog person. I don't get cats, cats don't like me.* But we figured we'd get an outside cat. It would be an employee, right? Keep the house free of pests. His name was Splash. He was a semi-domesticated cat. Perfect, right? Okay inside (learned the litterbox in a day) but love, love, loved being outside. Three weeks. ...