So, yesterday morning I woke up and discovered that Mephistopheles had clawed a cat door for himself through our front porch screen and disappeared into the misty morning.

He did not come back until early this morning.

He is doing fine. He ate enough breakfast for three cats, had a brief showdown with Pooka, lounged on the back steps with me for a bit, chewed on the knuckle of my left index finger hard enough to make me howl and then sauntered off happily to snooze in the backyard.

He really wants to come inside, but I have to take that slow so Pooka and Daisy can adjust. For the moment, he is happy roaming free.

My finger hurts. That little blighter has the bite force of a Sabre tooth tiger! I need Advil!