Every cat  who has ever adopted me has, at one point or another, made an escape.
Sosta: in 1997. Our first night in College Station. She scared me to death. I cried all night. She came back in the morning.
Mitad: in ~2001. She got out, got into a fight, and had a huge bite out of her skin. She had to go on antibiotics and “outdoor kitty” shots and stuff.
Purrrrrl: in 2002. Twice. She would nap on the half wall of our balcony. Two times right after we moved in, we came home to find her lying in the Jasmine below. Months later, I was watching her nap and realized how she did it. She was sleeping when a bug buzzed her head and she reached to swat at it. She almost fell that time, too.
I guess it was Marble‘s turn. He can walk on the outside of the rail of our balcony. I’ve worried about him doing it, but it’s not like there is anything I can do to stop/prevent it. During the little storm last night (and while E and I were at dinner), he got down from the 3rd floor balcony. I was at knitting and E was watching The Outlaws. He knew something was very wrong at their 9pm dinner time. He walked the perimiter of our place with the red laser light. When I got home, we did it again. No luck. Sadness.
I made flyers with my phone number and email address and we hung them on the doors in this breezeway. I figured I’d hit the rest of the building today. Today, at 5:09am, we got a text–which I of course didn’t see until hours later–that he was with downstairs neighbors. They found him warbling in a corner of the breezeway, took him in, and put a flyer in the mailbox area. I didn’t even think to look in there or put a flyer in there. He had been playing with their dog and smelled of her sweet Indian perfume.
He’s exhausted. Being homeless is hard, even when you have a nice place to stay. He’s slept harder and far more today than usual. I think he also might be a little sore, but he doesn’t have any scrapes or bumps.
I hope, like the others, that he learned his lesson and will quit with the “Catcrobatics”
 Come to think of it, every dog I can remember has a story, too. I’ll have to blog those one of these days.