Aug 18, 2008It Was a Dark and Stormy Night; the penultimate chapter, part 3During Christmas break the second year of Puff's reign in our classroom, I took her home for safekeeping, of course. One night in late December we had a lightning and wind storm that was thunderous and intense. We went to bed expecting to have power outages and sleeplessness due to the noise. Nevertheless, I drifted off. Some time in the night I awoke to dark, dead calm. Ahhh...back to sleep. But wait! I could hear a rustling metallic swishing sound. Something was disturbing the metal mesh of the fireplace screen in our bedroom. Too sleepy to care, I made a mental note to be sure the damper was tightly shut in the morning. Back to blessed quiet sleep...A while later I awoke again, to the slight rattle of the vertical blinds on the sliding door in our bedroom, which leads to a small balcony. The furnace must have kicked on, the vents rattling the slats. I hadn't noticed that before....heavy sigh, turn over, back to sleep. Some time after that, I awoke to my husband's laughter. It was 3 a.m.! He was sitting up in the bed, with his bedside lamp on, laughing at something in his hands. As I became conscious and somewhat focused, I realized he was holding Puff! Puff belonged in her cage, far away, downstairs in the office! Why was he playing with her now, of all times? He never held her or had much to do with her. What the hell? It's 3 a.m.! He had awakened to the sound of little feet on the extra pillow he'd thrown off the bed. At first he'd been afraid to look, vowing to set traps in the morning. As the little dance persisted he decided he was afraid NOT to look. When he turned on the lamp, there was little Puff, sitting up, tiny pink paws clenched, shiny black eyes pleading. What else could he do but bring her into bed?Upon inspection, Puff's plastic cage (yes, the old much patched one, I'm embarrassed to admit) had committed another failure, or Puff had achieved a break out. Either way, a vent flap hung open, making possible her escape. Poor Puff! She must have had quite a tumble from the cabinet to the floor. She then had to negotiate her way in the dark past a bathroom with all the hidey places she could have become lost in; the kitchen which had Decon rodent poison under the cabinet toe spaces (another long and disgusting story); past the living room and dining room; up 7 carpeted stairs with railings to fall through, across a landing, up 6 more stairs with railings, through the loft, past the laundry room and its attendant hiding spots and hazardous substances, down the hall, around the periphery of a large bedroom, past (apparently into and out of) the mesh fireplace screen, two walk-in closets, the sliding door, (remember the rattling slats?)around the foot of our bed and onto Mr.'s pillow, where she paced until she was rescued. She didn't like the noisy storm any more than we did! We brought Puff's patched-again cage into the bedroom where we all hunkered down until morning. The next day, Puff got a shiny new Habitrail. The Upgrade. The one she was worthy of. She spent most of the next year, safe and sound in her new home, entertaining seven year olds and their teacher with her dear antics and calm personality. Then the inevitable happened, mercifully during a school holiday away from the children. But that's another chapter.