It had been a slow and lazy day for Anton and Licorice. If the pair weren’t napping at the same time, he would turn his attention to<i>The Bloody Red Baron</i>, while the cat, of course, napped the day away. Due to his slothfulness, he hadn’t quite made it to the pet store yet. Eager to get it over with, he quickly dressed and left the apartment, locking the door behind him. Licorice was in need of more cat food, and he wanted to replenish her treats following Tesla’s grand heist.<br/><br/>By the time he returned home, it was nearing dinner time. Had he been paying closer attention, he would have and should have picked up some sort of take-out. Oh well, he thought, leftover spaghetti it is then. At least food and treats for his pet had been taken care of. Opening the door of the stairwell, who would be there outside his apartment but the master thief himself?<br/><br/>Seeing Anton, the Maine Coon started to heartily wag his tail. For crying out loud, he thought, I can hear him purring from here. Now outside his door, he looked down at Tesla who continually circled his legs, every now and then rubbing against him. His key in the door’s lock dramatically altered the cat’s stance. He was now standing at attention, waiting for entry. Anton imagined had Stella’s cat been a sports car at this moment, engine RPMs would be rising, while his rear tires would be squealing in its own white smoke.<br/><br/>Sure enough, as the door was swung open, it apparently wasn’t opening fast enough, as Tesla just barged his way in. Licorice trotted over to greet her new friend. “Oh sure,” Anton teased, “make yourself at home, Tesla.” He used his foot to close the door, and then he locked it. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt for the pair of felines to reacquaint themselves, he moved toward the kitchen to drop off the two bags of cat food and three bags of kitty treats. He enjoyed spoiling her, as Evangeline did also. A bag of salmon treats were joined by a bag each of chicken and tuna treats. She tended to favor anything with some kind of fish in it.<br/><br/>Back out in the living room, Anton sat on the bench with a bottle of Imperial IPA, watching the cats communicate with each as only cats could. It seemed Licorice wished to show Tesla her kitty tree house as she jumped onto its second level. Not counting the floor, the tree house consisted of three carpeted platforms, with two scratching posts built into the structure. It stretched from floor to ceiling, secured at the top by a rubber stopper against the ceiling. At the very top was a crow’s nest, which was another of her favorite napping spots.<br/><br/>Gazing down at him, she then leapt to the third level. Tesla’s interest was certainly piqued, as he moved closer to the tree house, not to be outdone by some showoff Persian female. Seven pounds of Persian had never been a problem for it. Double that weight, however, and Anton envisioned the structure toppling down at Tesla’s arrival on any of the levels. Cripes, he thought, putting his beer down and readying himself for the disaster he was sure would happen.<br/><br/>Tesla finally launched himself to the second level, and immediately joined Licorice on the third. They sniffed at each other’s noses. To Anton’s relief, the tree house swayed a little, but it held the extra weight. “Alright guys, I hate to be a party pooper, but one of you has to go back home." Gathering the Maine Coon in his arms, he headed for the door, then the stairs.<br/><br/>A minute or so later, he was once again staring at the numbers 6-0-8. He whispered to Tesla, “We have to stop meeting like this, bro.” The cat just purred his heavy purr, and Anton could’ve sworn the cat’s entire body vibrated because of the purring. He knocked on the door, wishing to get this over with.