Days passed and Stella carefully made sure that Tesla didn’t escape. She took him on walks but he didn’t let up trying to get out of the apartment even going so far that he was trying to see if he could get on the oak tree. After a week of that he just took to lying by the front door, the very image of cat depression. It was pathetic. Stella bought catnip, but he only half heartedly played with it, taking the stuffed patchwork mouse with him to lie by the door. She bought a laser pointer and a thing on a string, but he just moped by the door.<br/><br/>“Fine,” she said. “You win.” Stella took a small piece of paper and wrote on it.<br/><br/>“Dear Anton, I tried to keep him locked up but he’s getting depressed. I think he misses Lics. Would it be ok if they have a play-date? Regards, Stella. PS don’t feed this wubble-butt. You don’t need to bring him back, he’ll smell his dinner and return on his own.”<br/><br/>Stella carefully tied the note on to Tesla’s collar and opened the door. In a flash he grabbed the catnip mouse and ran out and down the stairs. “Mind your curfew, Cat.” She called after him.<br/><br/>Once he was out the door she opened all windows and began cleaning. It was a beautiful spring day and she enjoyed hearing the birds outside. And to be honest she was also listening in case there were screams. It was a fourteen pound cat after all.