I’ve put Woody to bed for the night.
He and Leo have a bedroom downstairs, the house’s guest bedroom. There’s a bed, a desk, some shelves, a collection of framed photos on the wall, and a private bathroom. In the bathroom there’s a litter box and a food dish for the boys, and at night the boys receive a soft food packet and are then shut into the bedroom.
The past few nights I haven’t done that. The soft food packet, yes. Shutting them into the bedroom, no, which is why Woody spent one night sitting on my chest screaming earlier this week.
We’ll see how Woody deals with sleeping alone.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when I got home from work–Woody had found a way out one of my office’s windows. He had climbed up the venetian blinds, and as I’d neglected to throw the window’s latch he cracked open the top pane, squeezed himself through the opening at the top of the window, forced the screen off its moorings, and escaped into the out of doors.
It took about five minutes to put the venetian blind back into some semblence of normalcy.
I wasn’t home more than ten minutes when I heard him screaming on the car port. Woodrow was needy this evening. He needed attention, he craved attention.
Now he’s in bed. It’s barely ten-thirty, and I feel like I could go there myself.
Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. Move some furniture for my sister in the afternoon, then go to the store mid-afternoon for our annual inventory. Hopefully we’ll be done by midnight. We have a lot of product in the store, but it’s fairly well prepped now, so I think we’ll do fine.