I seem to be a magnet for strange circumstances.

Once, a man sitting next to me on an airplane quietly passed. As in…died. I thought that topped the Weirdest Moment List…until a few days ago.

Early Saturday morning, my son left for work around 5 a.m. I heard him lock the front door and fell back to sleep. For some reason, I woke up around 5:30 and stretched my arms over my head.

My hands landed on something large and furry, curled up on my pillow.

I bolted up…a cat (A CAT!!!! AND WE DON’T HAVE A CAT!) politely jumped off the bed. I screamed. My husband woke up with a start. I told him there was a cat in our room and he told me I was dreaming. I pointed to the cat…and Steve was then convinced. He jumped out of bed and called, “Here kitty, kitty.” The cat politely (this was a very nice cat, if I do say so) sashayed out of our bedroom, followed Steve to the front door…and calmly went on his way.

Now…there are a few questions that remain to be answered.

Like, how did the cat get in the house in the first place?

I’m pretty sure it must have sneaked in while my son was leaving…though he completely denied any wrong going. (Yeah, right). The timing was just too…coincidental. And I really think if it had come in any sooner, our dog would have sniffed it out. Our dog takes her sniffing duties very seriously.

But that still leaves me with one other question. Why, in a household with five sleeping people…did that cat jump on MY pillow?????

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