As I pulled up to my place on Friday, our maintenance guy came rushing over in his golf cart. He told me that he’d fixed the slow drain in the master bath and that he’d installed the new thermostat on my oven.

I had called about the sink and asked about the status of the thermostat repair, so I told him, “Oh, I was just wondering what the status was, that was all.”

He replied, “Oh, that’s fine. What I wanted to tell you was, well, you know my buddy? The white one?”

(Nothing good begins that way.)

“Yes?”

“Well, when I took the panel off of the oven to put the thermostat in, I turned around to get some tools. Then I heard a meow. He’d gotten himself stuck in there, where I’d taken the panel off, and was up against the wall and couldn’t get out.”

(Loud sigh.)

"So, I had to pull the entire oven out. That’s why everything is moved onto the counter. Once I’d pulled it out a bit, he jumped out onto the stove, ran onto the counter, jumped onto the dining room table, and sat there. I caught him and checked him over to make sure he hadn’t cut himself on the sharp metal, but he seemed ok. The other one, she* just came over, said hi, and went upstairs.”

The maintenance guy is the thing I’ll miss most about this place. True story: Orion has gotten out of the house twice when he’s come over to fix something. Both times he’s chased him down. I have been told, “I’m real careful now. I’m too old to chase that white cat around.”

*I didn’t point out that Jasper is a boy. Really not important.**

**Well, maybe to him.