I told you they were not to be trifled with. The other day I came home, threw my coat on the chair, stretched, reached for the light, and....froze, clenched in the icy creeping grip of sheer woolly terror. THIS is what awaited me.



They were here. In this room. IN THIS VERY ROOM. The sheep. They followed me. they know where I live. They have somehow escaped the bounds of the interent, entered the real world, and, in their menacing herd, have bounded over green fields and fences to my very door, and left me this terrifying token. What does it mean? A warning? Some kind of voodoo curse? I tired to notify the authorities ( um...Alberta Fish & Wildlife?) that the sheep were preparing for some kind of massive assault on humanity - but they informed me that sheep were livestock and therefore not their jurisdiction, sent me to an Agriculture Canada office, who referred me to an Alberta agriculture office, who sent me to an infectious diseases control office, who sent me to an office listed as in the second basement level of the Mcleod building, which, upon investigation, has been turned into condos and never had even ONE basement - at which point i began to develop the suspiscion that i might be being given the run around, and went home in a huff to leave humanity to its well-deserved fate.

In other equally terrifying news, my cat can walk through walls. Now that i have accepted this odd, but increasingly obvious fact, the world seems to make a lot more sense. On several occaisons i have left my house secure in the knowlede that O'Malley, while a super-being, lacks the opposable-thumb-granted dexterity to turn doorknobs, and is therefore safely imprisoned in my apartment till my return. How wrong i was. More than once i have opened my outer door to a much louder than usual meow and the incongruous sight of my self satisfied cat waiting at the bottom of the steps. In the laundry room. Where he is not supposed to be. Two triple locked steel hydraulically-sealed doors and a sophisticated anti-sheep security system away from where i left him. Once I arrived at my door to the eerie silohette of a cat in the upstairs apartment window. For a moment, i thought the ghost of my landlords demon-posessed cat Simon continued to haunt the place after his departure. It was somewhat relieving to find it was only MY cat, who had simply developed the ability to pass through solid matter. I theorize that Mr. O' Malley has learned to exploit a little known physics loophole - one that was first brought to my attention by renowned physics expert My Friend Gerry - whereby it is theoretically possible that when two solid objects collide their molecules all simultaneously miss each other and they will pass through unaffected (Which sounds like much of Jeremy's love life).
My cat, being exceptionally lucky, has managed to do this on numerous occasions.
My other theory involves the scientifically documented Feline Multiple Life phenomenem. (Actually 9.65, according to the latest studies). My Cat could be killing himself in my apartment, only to resurrect in the laundry room. If that is the case, a stern talking to is in order. We don't know how many of those things he has left! (Newer cats come with a bar of little cat icons on their collar that dissapear each time a life is used up- for the nintendo generation of pet owners)

There might just be a secret cat-sized passage in the closet. But that doesn't seem very plausible.