A Slice of Laramie is Suspicious

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I caught my cat staring at the door to the garage with his hackles up when I locked up the house last night. Not gonna lie, it freaked me out. Was he picking up on something with his superior cat senses? A wild animal that snuck into the garage? Serial killer (obviously imported from Colorado) hiding behind my car?

Of course I didn’t actually check—it was nighttime! I’ve seen enough horror movies to know better. I dropped some treats in the cat’s food bowl and he instantly abandoned watch at the door. I guess whatever attracted his attention in the garage wasn’t interesting enough to compete with a snack.

I’m happy to live in a place with such a low crime rate. Our cars got broken into a couple years ago, and I use the term “broken into” loosely because the cars were parked outside and not locked, so the car burglar really just opened the doors. And once they determined there was nothing of value in the cars, they left without doing any damage. Fingers crossed that’s the worst thing that happens to us in Laramie. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check out my garage in the safety of daylight.