Truffles' Halloween Tail: Part 1

Hey everybody, it's Truffles! This year I challenged Mommy to write a Halloween story starring ME, and she accepted! It's a little bit scary, but don't worry, it's pure fiction. (Although the window incident did happen to Tara.) I really hope you like the story, and be sure to come back on Thursday for Part 2!

****************

Truffles, you'd better be ready to be a couch potato with me tonight was all I could think as I stumbled up my front steps. I'd recently moved into my dream home; a rambling old Victorian complete with a widows peak that made me think of a witch's hat whenever I looked it. I bought it for a steal because it needed so much work but I figured if I tackled a project at a time it will get done eventually. In addition to various plumbing issues that were popping up, a leaky roof combined with a very wet fall has so far been my most immediate problem, and I didn't even want to think about what condition the antique furnace was probably in.

Since moving to Stonyvale I'd been fortunate to find a full-time job as a reporter at the local weekly paper, and just started volunteering at the animal shelter as well. So this night before Halloween I was looking forward to nothing more than cuddling on the couch with my beloved tortoiseshell cat Truffles, a microwave burrito and a creepy old movie.

"Mommy's home, sweetie!" I called as I walked through the door.

Silence.

That's weird...she always runs to me chattering her tortie chatter when I come home.

"Truffles! It's Mommy! Where are you?" I called a little louder.

Still nothing.

Getting a little worried I dropped my tote bag in the hall and starting searching each room. In the kitchen I saw that her dishes were empty; in the bathroom her litter pan had been used. I went into our bedroom and the first thing I noticed was a cold breeze blowing through. I ran to the screened-in window she loved to sunbathe in. It was broken. The screen was lying in the backyard and the window was left completely open.

She's gotten out. It's Halloween, she's practically a black cat, and she's all alone out there in a strange town.

Resisting the urge to start crying my eyes out and calling 911 for help, I realized I was going to have to deal with this myself. She'll be ok. She'll be ok. You're going to find her. I kept repeating to myself.

I ran back outside and started frantically calling again. While checking under the bushes in front of the house two middle-school aged boys stopped.

"What are you looking for, lady?"

"My cat, could you help me find her?"

"What does she look like?"

"She's small, mostly black, very talkative. Chances are good that you'll hear her before you see her..." I stopped because I noticed a strange look pass between the boys. "What's wrong?"

"You said she's mostly black. Black cats go missing every year at Halloween in this neighborhood. Everybody thinks old Henrietta Witchfield is snitching them but she's such a scary old witch that people are afraid to confront her. Nobody's even seen her in years but there are always cats looking out her windows."

Furious, I said, "Well I'm not afraid of her! I'll put a stop to this!"

To be continued...