Late this afternoon I was sitting at My desk in bare feet, a pair of fresh socks at the ready, as I was doing paperwork and making phone calls. A certain fuzzy-butted cat by the name of Frey Kittehson was My lovely assistant, dusting the keyboard with his tail and strolling in front of the tax guide I was trying to read. In due course, said fuzzy-butted cat was airlifted from the desk (under protest) and relegated to the floor, whereupon he stomped off in a huff.
Work finished, I went to put on the socks and get ready for this evening's band rehearsal.
"Funny, I could've sworn I brought a pair of them..."
I searched on the desk, under the desk, under the chair. I retraced My steps back to the bedroom where I had picked up the socks, thinking that perhaps I had left one in the sock basket or dropped it on the floor. Nada. I shrugged, donned a different pair, and headed downstairs and out with My clarinets.
Several hours later, upon My return to Astrejurhof, I found the missing sock.
In the middle of the living room carpet.
Covered in burrs.
I'm not quite sure why Frey decided to steal one of My socks, and even more puzzled about how it wound up 50 feet away, on a different floor of the house, covered in plant matter that to My knowledge does not grow inside the house.
He's good. He's real good.