Pingu got out last night ...

… we didn’t realise until Mr Brown came to remove her from the bedroom for the night.
“Where’s Ping?” he asked.
“Isn’t she watching sport with you?” I replied.
No. She is nowhere in the house. Someone didn’t double snib the cat door and she’s worked out how to open it, if that isn’t done.
It’s past midnight. Mr Brown is out the back, with a torch, peering over fences, calling. Not a tinkle of the bell, not an little siamese yark in response.
I’m wandering the streets, calling, looking under cars, looking in gutters, calling through the school yard bars. Nothing, not a peep, except for the fruit bats I startled.
Half an hour or so later, Mr Brown comes to find me. He’s found her, she was sitting on the neighbour’s shed roof. Once spotted she made for inside pretty smart.
I start to shake and then weep, something I’ve managed to avoid up until then.
On walking through the front door, Pingu runs up the hall and says “hello”. She is immediately crushed between the two of us and dampened with silly tears (mine). She does not object for some time. I think she understood.