First there was spring cleaning. Then a visit from two strangers (to Buster). Then I made a burnt offering of a paschal yam* that filled the house with an incredible cloud of smoke. So when I opened the door & window, Buster took off.
When someone was going around knocking, I assumed it was because they wanted to make sure the fire was out or they would call 911. But no: do you have a cat? he's under the bed in Apt 1.
My bold little guy went 2 flights down & then assumed he was in his own home. He understands where he is horizontally, it seems, but not vertically. It was hard to shoo him out & he melted into me for the two flights back up to our place. I was so shocked—he has almost never left the apartment on his own—that I almost didn't recognize him in Kyle's apartment. Are you my cat? Really?
* How do you cook a sweet potato in the microwave?