This afternoon I received a text from Big D: I couldn't find Elvis.
What that meant was Elvis was not in Graceland. He was unprotected from the baddies out to get him. He was without food. I figured we'd walk in and he'd be waiting at the door for us.
Nope. There was no hide nor hair of him. I began to wonder if he jetted off to Las Vegas for a show. Or was he headed for Blue Hawaii? Then my thoughts took a darker turn.
What if Cleo had him disposed? Would Ty do her dirty work for her?
Right as we were all beginning to panic, Lamb found him. Behind the washer! I would have taken a picture, but, um, gross. It's pretty dirty back there. Definitely The Ghetto of the house. Before I could check for myself, I had to ask Lamb if he was still alive and unharmed. Luckily, the answer to both was yes.
After making us panic so, he gave a big stretch and sauntered out (once the washer was moved out of his way). Silly kitty. We led him to his food where he lived up to his name with a powerful attack of his meal. It wasn't a fried peanut butter & banana sandwich but it probably tasted like it to him!