My cat loves to hide – this is not an unusual attribute for a cat. What amazes me however is that after living with me in my one-bedroom apartment for six years, he still manages to outwit me every now and again – invariably in the midst of doing my chores, so I start to think he’s either dashed out the front door while I’m taking my laundry downstairs; or that he’s managed to wedge himself into some previously-unknown crevice in one of my (many, many) closets. And then the search begins.
One of his favorite spots, particularly if I have visitors (he’s a little shy at first) is under the covers on my bed. This isn’t much of a hiding place, since his 16-pound self creates a not-insubstantial mound in the middle of the bed. Frankly, it’s my favorite of his many lairs – he feels like he’s pulled one over on me, but I can see exactly where he is…
Today, though, he upped the ante, as you’ll see… Cat: 1; Eric: 0.
UPDATE: Apparently, he realized I was wise to this new hideout. Seriously, he’s not even trying anymore…
It's a Complete Outrage 