I just had the biggest scare. Slumping in the doorway after my biology exam, i picked up the cat food to give Tiggs and Jazzi their munch'ems. Except...
"Mum. Where's Tiggs."
Normally he's scampering about and mewling piteously come four o'clock. It was quarter past. Jazzi twined herself around my legs. But no Tiggs. Mum had to dash off to pick up dad from an appointment. While she was gone, i wandered round the house calling out. After about 4 minutes, i gave myself up to despair, and graphic images of a patch of white and orange fur on the side of the road wouldn't stop creeping into my head. With the whole house move i thought he'd ambled off in search of familiar surroundings. It seemed even more unfair because the same thing had happened only a week ago; Missy had escaped during the night; luckily we found her. As i do in almost all dire situations, i - heathen that i am - made a grovelling supplication to 'God'. You know; bargaining with him; 'hey man, you let me find my tiggs, you may have got yourself another partial follower.' Although, of course, my entreaty was perhaps less light-hearted than the above sentence. I stumbled around tearily searching high and low for that dastardly feline. When the parents returned some 15 minutes later, they joined my search, although, unlike me, did not dissolve. Blimey, i am so damn weak. I think that's my fatal flaw, well, one of them anyway. I give in too easily. Cause after about 10 minutes of futile searching, we were out in the shed, and dad said
"i hear him". So did i. Oh blessed meowl!
Eventually we found him. He had been locked in the garage, and he was sitting on the spare tire under my dad's company car. My tiggs!

Well. Now i know cats can be more stressful than exams. I think there's a moral in that.