Yesterday I was working out when the doorbell rang. There was no one immediately visible when I opened the door, but I peeked around the corner of the doorframe and saw that a smallish man with glassy eyes was standing on the porch. He was holding a half-empty Heineken underneath crossed arms, and his breath smelled a lot like the drink wasn't his first of the day. In an Caribbean accent that I couldn't quite place, he slurred, "I'mmm frommm nexxxt dooorr, annd I waas jusst wonder-ring ... doo youu haave a blaack annd white caat? Because itt's a nice caat, buut sometimessss it bugss mee. Look, it'sss righttt there inn my yarddd." He pointed to a cat-sized rock in his yard. Interesting. I looked at the rock for awhile and finally decided, "Nope, that's not ours. We do have three cats, but they stay inside all the time. Our other neighbor might have a cat, but I don't know." To which narrowed his eyes and replied, "Whaatever," as he sauntered back to his porch with a gate that made me wonder if he might have a wooden leg.

In other news, I'm never letting our cats outside--too many pirates around here.