That’s “Nio” (short for Antonio) and not “Neo” as stated above.

Correction requested by my wife under threat of further beatings.

Please send help. Tell them to follow the sound of cast iron fry pans hitting something followed by a whimpering male sound.

When my wife moved in, she brought a short haired, half Persian with her. She calls him, “Neo.” I call him, “Evil Kitty.” You have to do the Dr. Evil voice when using that name to make it work right. I used to tell her that the I was going to complete his transformation into his true self, Evil Kitty, by making him completely bald. I stopped using that threat when the beatings got too much for me to take.

Anyway, Evil Kitty has a habit of running full speed ahead for open doors. Not always a problem as I have a screened porch. Well, one night Evil Kitty snuck out the door right after we chased him back inside for the night. He was quite happy out there for several hours. Then he realized that he couldn’t get back inside and panicked.

It’s now four in the morning and I’m waking up to the sound of battering ram against my kitchen door. The cat is repeatedly running full speed ahead and head butting a hardwood door. Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam.

I open the door and in runs Evil. I get to try and go back to sleep with the next thirty minutes full of a cat that won’t shut up and Jenn telling him that he’s stupid and he should know better by now. Seems he’d done that, head butting and all, several times before.

It also wasn’t the last time.

To this day, Evil’s favorite game is still trying to sneak outside. I’m not sure, do to his own actions, why though. He finally managed to do it one night not long after the head banging incident and ended up having a panic attack.

Best I can figure, Evil snuck out onto the porch when I took the trash out. Since I didn’t know he was out there, I didn’t bother to lock the screen door. Bad move as the cat knows how to open screen doors. About two in the morning, I thought I heard something odd outside. Jenn asked me what was up and I couldn’t tell her because I wasn’t sure what I’d heard myself. I hopped out of bed and went out to the porch to check. Nothing. Then I heard an odd gurgle on the carport.

Hiding under Jenn’s Rav , wide eyed and panicked, was Evil. He was so spazzed that he wouldn’t move. I had to slide my slipper at him to get his dumb butt to run back onto the porch and then carry him back inside.

And he still hasn’t learned.

He’s snuck out two or three times since then, but he got caught within one minute each time. The funny thing is, the little twit spends all day staring out windows and trying to sneak out doors and then panics and freezes whenever he does. You know that look that a kitten gets when it runs out from under a chair, attacks your foot, realizes how much more there is to its target, looks up at you with that look and runs back under the chair? That’s the “oh dear god” look he gets as he turns into an Evil Kitty statue within three feet of the door.

And some people wonder why I think dogs are the superior species.

Katie looks a little too much like Mr. Smokey for my comfort. If she had one white paw I’d be thinking you stole my cat. And then gave him a sex change.