On Things That Go Bump In The Night.

My parents have (or used to have) four cats: Texas, Annabelle, BT and Amanda. Half the time, they're indoor cats. The other half of the time, they're crazy, quasi-feral barn cats. When my folks head out of town (which is often), the cats revert to their primal nature and turn into hunters: with no one to coddle them, they wander the fields killing rabbits, moles, and mice.

Except Annabelle. Annabelle never seemed interested in straying from the confines of the house. She was not an explorer.

A couple of months ago, though, my parents left town and Annabelle went missing. They assumed she would wander home eventually, as the other cats were wont to do. Texas would leave for weeks at a time and come home with new scars to show for his adventures, so it didn't seem implausible. However, Annabelle has not returned. She has a collar, so they presume had someone found her, they would have been notified.

In other news, the coyotes seem to have fallen on hard times and their search for food brings them closer to house than it has in the past. Last night, I fell asleep to howling outside my window. If you listen, you can hear the horses panic.

Annabelle's disappearance and the nearing of the coyotes may be unrelated incidents. Or, they may not be.

Make of this what you will.