It had been multiple days now that this strange grey stray cat had been appearing just outside my apartment door. It started with simple meowing, but after a few days, this turned into yowling and scratching my door to get my attention! Why? I did not know, but no matter what I tried, it wouldn’t leave.Instead, I decided to call the police, and I was glad I did as I could never have expected them to find this… Calling the police certainly wasn’t my first option when I noticed the stray loitering around my door. I had called the building owner and animal control, yet none of those seemed to help. It was what finally pushed me to actually call the police. I refrained from calling 911, instead using a non-emergency line. However, in hindsight, 911 would have been just as appropriate…  It started around four days ago when I was woken up by a strange sound. It didn’t help that I had just finished watching a scary ghost movie, which made me more scared. “Who’s there?” I called out, trying to keep the tremor from my voice, as I heard the same sound again. I grabbed the bat next to my bed and made my way towards the sound.  Luckily for me, the sound didn’t seem to come from any closet or dark corners, partially easing my nerves. However, as I came closer and closer to the front door, I started to notice how it wasn’t just some random sound. “Is that an animal?” I asked myself as I started to recognize the sound as a yowl. I immediately dashed towards the door, fearing that the animal could potentially be injured.  As I opened the door, the bat still in my other hand, I saw nothing out of the ordinary. There wasn’t a person standing out in the hallway; it was just empty. Or at least that was what I thought until I heard that yowl again. It seemed to be right behind my door, and with trembling hands, I grabbed it, peering past it.  There I saw it, scratching ferociously at my door. With my head peering past the side, it spotted me, and its yowl turned into an ordinary meow. It walked over, brushing itself against the open door until it sat in front of my feet. It was now pawing the air, almost as if to get my attention, before it stood again and walked away.  I stood there, dazed, unsure about what was really happening. When I didn’t react or move, the loud yowl started again. This time around, I opened my door in its entirety, and the yowl was again replaced by a much gentler meow. I frowned at this. The stray grey cat walked back up the stairs it had just partially gone down and looked straight at me.  I was unsure what to do, but I surely wouldn’t go outside the comfort of my own home in some mere pajamas. Instead, I decided that with the knowledge of the scary sound being a cat, it was simply time to go back to bed. “Shush, you cat. It is time to sleep,” I said, trying to reprimand the cat as I closed the door and walked back to my bed.  My heart rested easy with the knowledge that the sound I had heard where being made by a cat. However, as soon as I had closed the door, I could hear the yowling and scratching near my door again. “Earplugs it is,” I sighed as I made my way to my bedroom. Nothing would keep me from having a good night’s sleep as I put in my earplugs. Or at least that is what I believed.  My sleep certainly hadn’t been restful. To be quite frank, it absolutely sucked. The cat had some lungs on them as it had kept me awake for the majority of the night. As I looked into my bathroom mirror, the bags under my eyes concurred with that statement. I knew it couldn’t go on like this, and with that in mind, I knew what I had to do. I grabbed my phone, dialed a number I had never dialed before, and pressed call. It took a few moments, but then I could hear the low voice. “Good morning, Mark Jensen speaking,” he said as I spoke to the building’s owner. He owned the entire apartment complex that me and a few others rented these homes from. He would be sure to find a solution, or at least that is what I thought.  Mark Jensen, the building owner, listened to my complaint about the stray cat. “It’s been driving me nuts,” I explained, describing the yowling and scratching. Mark nodded sympathetically. “Sounds like a real nuisance,” he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll see what I can do. We can’t have tenants losing sleep over a stray cat.” His assurance gave me some hope, though I wasn’t entirely convinced the problem would be resolved quickly.  Mark visited the building to investigate the situation personally. He knocked on my door early in the morning, holding a clipboard. “Let’s see this cat,” he said. We walked to the hallway together. “It usually shows up around here,” I said, pointing to the spot. Mark crouched down, looking for any signs. “Strange,” he muttered, “it’s like the cat knows when I’m coming.” He stood up, determined to find the solution.  He found the stray cat but failed to catch it as it disappeared quickly. “There it is!” Mark exclaimed, spotting the grey furball near the stairwell. But as soon as he approached, the cat darted off, disappearing around a corner. “Fast little bugger,” Mark sighed, standing up from his crouch. “It’s like it’s playing hide and seek with us.” We both knew catching the cat wasn’t going to be easy.  Mark instructed me to call him immediately if the stray cat returned. “I need you to keep an eye out,” he said firmly, handing me his business card. “Call me the second you hear or see it again.” I nodded, slipping the card into my pocket. “I will,” I promised. “And don’t worry,” Mark added with a confident smile, “we’ll get this sorted out.” His determination was somewhat reassuring.  He reassured me that he would handle the situation promptly next time. “I’ve dealt with strays before,” Mark said, trying to boost my confidence. “We just need to be persistent.” I appreciated his optimism but couldn’t shake off my doubts. “Thanks, Mark,” I said, forcing a smile. “I hope we can get some peace soon.” Mark patted my shoulder. “Hang in there. We’ll get it.” His words, though comforting, left me anxious for a resolution.  The yowling began again in the evening, prompting me to call Mark Jensen. I could hear the cat’s cries echoing through the hallway, louder and more insistent this time. Frustrated, I picked up my phone and dialed Mark’s number. “It’s back,” I said as soon as he answered. “The cat’s yowling again.” Mark sighed on the other end. “Alright, I’ll be there soon. Hang tight,” he replied before hanging up.  Mark assured me over the phone that he would take care of the issue. “Don’t worry,” he said firmly, “I’m on my way. We’ll catch that cat this time.” His confidence was a little comforting, but I couldn’t help feeling a bit skeptical. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll be waiting,” I said, trying to sound hopeful. “Just stay put and keep an ear out,” he added before hanging up the call.  I kept a lookout as the yowling suddenly stopped outside my apartment. I stood by the door, listening intently. The abrupt silence was eerie after the constant noise. “Where did it go?” I wondered aloud, peering through the peephole. The hallway seemed empty, but I knew the cat was out there somewhere. I decided to stay vigilant, ready to call Mark if I heard anything suspicious again.  Stepping out, I noticed men in animal control uniforms in the hallway. They were quietly discussing something near the stairwell. “Excuse me,” I said, approaching them. One of the officers turned to me. “We’re here for the stray cat,” he explained. “Have you seen it?” I nodded, pointing down the hall. “It was yowling just a few minutes ago.” The officer nodded and gestured for his team to spread out.  Approaching them, I discovered the stray cat had eluded capture again. “It’s like a ghost,” one of the officers muttered, shaking his head. “We saw it for a second, then it was gone.” Frustrated, I glanced around the hallway. “How does it keep disappearing like that?” I asked. The officer shrugged. “Some cats are just really good at hiding. We’ll have to try another approach next time.”  I overheard the animal control officers discussing the cat’s cleverness and agility as they weren’t able to catch him. “That cat’s like a ninja,” one of them said, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Another officer nodded in agreement. “It’s almost like it knows we’re coming before we do.” Their conversation made me realize just how tricky this situation was becoming. Catching this cat was no simple task.  Curious neighbors emerged from their apartments, inquiring about the situation. “What’s going on?” Mrs. Thompson from 3B asked, her brow furrowed. “Is there an emergency?” Mr. Lee from 4A peered down the hall, looking concerned. “It’s the stray cat,” I explained. “Animal control is trying to catch it.” The neighbors exchanged glances, clearly intrigued and worried about the ongoing commotion. Everyone wanted to know what would happen next.  The officers explained to everyone that the stray cat remained uncaught. “We’ve been trying, but it’s a slippery one,” the lead officer said, addressing the gathered neighbors. “It’s important to keep your eyes and ears open. If you see or hear anything, let us know immediately.” The crowd murmured in response, some nodding, others whispering among themselves. The frustration was palpable, but the officers seemed determined to solve the problem.  Neighbors expressed concern and shared their own experiences with the yowling. “That cat kept me up all night,” Mr. Lee complained. “I thought I was going crazy!” Mrs. Thompson nodded. “I’ve heard it too, scratching at my door. It’s been so unsettling.” Others chimed in with similar stories, each one confirming that the stray cat was more than just a nuisance. It was becoming a serious issue for everyone in the building.  A neighbor approached me, asking if the stray cat belonged to me. “Hey, is that your cat?” a young woman from 2C asked, looking curious. I shook my head quickly. “No, it’s not mine. It just keeps hanging around my door for some reason.” She raised an eyebrow. “Weird. Maybe it likes you,” she suggested with a small smile. “Well, whatever the reason, I hope they catch it soon,” she added.  I quickly denied ownership but mentioned the cat’s obsession with my door. “No, it’s definitely not my cat,” I said, shaking my head. “But for some reason, it seems fixated on my door. It’s been yowling and scratching here every night.” The neighbor looked sympathetic. “That’s really strange,” she said. “I hope they can figure out why it’s doing that.” I nodded, feeling a bit helpless about the whole situation.  The neighbor laughed and made a light-hearted joke about the situation. “Maybe you’re a cat whisperer and didn’t know it,” she said, chuckling. I couldn’t help but laugh along. “If that’s the case, I wish it would listen to me and go away,” I replied with a grin. Her humor eased the tension a bit, and we both hoped the issue would be resolved soon.  He reassured me that animal control would eventually handle the problem. “Don’t worry too much,” he said, giving me a confident nod. “Animal control deals with stuff like this all the time. They’ll catch that cat sooner or later.” His words were comforting, but the ongoing situation still left me anxious. “Thanks,” I said, trying to stay positive. “I really hope they do.” The men of animal control distributed their business cards, asking us to call if the cat returned. “Here’s our contact info,” one officer said, handing out cards. “If you see or hear the cat again, give us a call immediately.” We all took the cards, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. “Hopefully, we won’t need these for long,” I muttered, slipping the card into my pocket.  The yowling persisted for several days, frustrating the entire building as the cat eluded both Mark Jensen and Animal Control. “This is getting ridiculous,” Mrs. Thompson complained one morning. “How can one cat cause so much trouble?” Everyone was on edge, sleep-deprived and annoyed. Despite multiple attempts, the stray continued to evade capture, making us all wonder if there was more to this situation than met the eye.  Neighbors and I grew increasingly annoyed with animal control’s incompetence. “This is getting ridiculous,” Mr. Lee grumbled. “How hard can it be to catch one cat?” Mrs. Thompson nodded in agreement. “I’ve lost so much sleep over this,” she complained. The constant yowling and lack of resolution were wearing on everyone’s nerves. We all started to question if animal control was even capable of handling the situation.  Frustrated, I called the non-emergency police number to report the situation. “I’ve tried animal control, but they haven’t been able to catch this stray cat,” I explained to the operator. “It’s causing a lot of disturbance in the building.” The operator listened patiently before responding. “Alright, we’ll send someone to check it out,” she said. I hung up, hoping that the police could succeed where animal control had failed.  The police initially dismissed my call, deeming it a minor issue. “Ma’am, we usually don’t handle stray animal complaints,” the officer on the phone said. “It’s really something for animal control.” I sighed, feeling the frustration build up. “I understand, but this is causing a lot of trouble for everyone here,” I insisted. The officer was quiet for a moment before reluctantly agreeing to send someone over.  I insisted something was off, and the stray cat’s presence felt suspicious. “It’s not just a regular stray,” I argued. “It’s been yowling at my door every night, and it doesn’t seem to be acting like a typical cat.” The officer sighed. “Alright, we’ll have someone take a look,” he finally said. “Just stay put and we’ll send a unit over shortly.” I thanked him, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety.  Reluctantly, the police agreed to investigate and sent officers to my apartment. It didn’t take long before I heard a knock at the door. Two officers stood there, looking serious. “We got a report about a stray cat causing issues,” one of them said. “Can you show us where it’s been?” I nodded, leading them to the hallway where the cat usually appeared. “It’s been around here,” I explained.  The officers arrived and noticed the stray cat outside my door, yowling loudly. “Is that the one?” one officer asked, pointing to the grey cat making a racket. “Yes, that’s it,” I confirmed. The cat seemed completely unbothered by their presence, continuing its noisy serenade. The officers exchanged looks. “That’s one persistent cat,” the other officer remarked. They approached slowly, trying not to startle it.  The cat yowled outside my door, behaving strangely yet again. It didn’t flee like it usually did. Instead, it stayed put, its cries growing louder. “Why is it doing that?” I wondered aloud. The officers observed closely, noting the cat’s odd behavior. “It’s almost like it’s trying to tell us something,” one officer mused. The cat then began to pace back and forth, its eyes fixed on us.  This time, the cat didn’t run away but repeated its odd behavior from before as it began meowing again and walking away before turning around again to look at us. “There it goes again,” I said, watching it. “It’s like it wants us to follow.” The cat walked a few steps, looked back, and meowed insistently. The officers seemed intrigued, exchanging curious glances.  An officer suggested the cat might want us to follow it somewhere. “Maybe it’s trying to lead us to something,” he said, scratching his head. “Should we follow it?” I asked, feeling a mix of curiosity and hesitation. The officer nodded. “It’s worth a shot. Let’s see where it goes.” We all decided to cautiously follow the cat, keeping a safe distance to avoid scaring it.  We cautiously followed the cat, maintaining a safe distance to avoid scaring it. The cat moved steadily, occasionally glancing back to ensure we were still behind it. “This is so strange,” I whispered to the officer beside me. He nodded, eyes fixed on the cat. “Yeah, but let’s see where it takes us.” The cat led us down the hallway, towards the stairs, its movements deliberate and purposeful.  The cat led us down the stairs, pawing at the back entrance door. It paused every few steps, ensuring we were still following. “Where is it taking us?” I whispered to the officer. He shrugged, eyes fixed on the determined feline. At the bottom of the stairs, the cat stopped and scratched at the door, its yowling resuming with more urgency. “Looks like it wants us to go outside,” the officer remarked.  An officer opened the door, curious about where the cat was leading us. The moment the door swung open, the cat darted outside, its tail flicking as if urging us to hurry. “Let’s see where this goes,” the officer said, holding the door for me. I stepped out into the cool night air, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension as we followed the cat into the backyard.  The cat walked outside, guiding us towards a specific spot in the backyard. It moved with purpose, its steps quick and deliberate. “It’s really going somewhere,” I noted, glancing at the officer. He nodded, following closely. The cat led us past the garden and towards a quiet corner of the yard. It stopped abruptly, looking back at us with a pleading expression before pawing at the ground.  We followed closely, intrigued by the cat’s persistent and unusual behavior. “What is it doing?” I asked, watching as the cat continued to paw at the ground. “I think it wants us to dig here,” the officer suggested. The cat’s behavior was so focused and insistent that we couldn’t ignore it. We exchanged glances, each of us wondering what we might find beneath the soil.  The cat led us to a spot in the backyard, pawing at the ground insistently. “Looks like we need to dig here,” the officer said, crouching down to examine the area. The cat’s claws raked the soil, its yowls growing more urgent. “Alright, let’s see what’s under there,” the other officer agreed, standing up. I nodded, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease about what we might uncover.  An officer suggested digging to see if something was buried there. “It’s worth checking out,” he said, eyeing the spot where the cat had been pawing. “We might find something important.” I nodded, agreeing that the cat’s behavior was too strange to ignore. “I’ll go grab a shovel,” I offered, heading towards the shed. The officers stayed behind, keeping an eye on the cat and the curious ground.  I went to grab a shovel from the shed, only to see a security camera I had never seen before. Its small, blinking red light caught my eye. “What’s this doing here?” I muttered, feeling a chill run down my spine. The camera seemed out of place, hidden among the garden tools. Shaking off my unease, I grabbed the shovel and hurried back to the officers.  Weirded out, I brought back the shovel to the officer, who began digging. “Found anything interesting?” one officer asked as he started to dig. “Just a weird security camera in the shed,” I replied, pointing over my shoulder. The officer paused for a moment, then continued to dig. “Let’s see what’s down here,” he said, focusing on the task at hand. The cat watched intently, its yowling finally subdued.  It didn’t take long for him to hit something, as he uncovered a duffel bag, to everyone’s astonishment. “What is that?” I asked, leaning in for a closer look. The officer brushed off the dirt, revealing a worn, black bag. “Looks like we’ve found something significant,” he said, pulling the bag from the ground. The cat circled around us, meowing softly, as if pleased with our discovery. First, they searched the exterior, noting two faded letters on the bag. With some effort, they noticed it was the letter M and J. “M.J.,” one officer read aloud, frowning. “Any idea who this might belong to?” he asked, looking at me. I shook my head, puzzled. “No clue,” I admitted. The officers exchanged glances, the mystery deepening with every passing moment as they contemplated the next steps.  Before they could look inside, Mark Jensen opened the door, appearing visibly nervous and agitated, and asked what they were doing on his property. “Hey, what’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes darting to the duffel bag. The officers straightened up, eyeing Mark with suspicion. “We’re investigating a potential issue,” one officer replied calmly. Mark’s agitation only seemed to increase as he noticed the cat sitting calmly by the bag.  The officer questioned Mark, asking for his name and linking him to the bag as they shared the same initials. “Your name is Mark Jensen, correct?” the officer asked. Mark nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, that’s me. Why?” The officer pointed to the faded initials on the duffel bag. “These match your initials. Care to explain?” Mark’s face paled slightly, and he stammered, “I… I don’t know anything about that bag.”  The officer opened the bag and saw a big stash of money. The officer asked him where he had gotten this, and Mark asked for a lawyer. “What is this?” the officer exclaimed, pulling out bundles of cash. Mark’s eyes widened in panic. “I want a lawyer,” he said firmly, avoiding eye contact. The officer nodded, securing the bag. “You’ll get your lawyer, but you’re coming with us for questioning.”  The officers took in Mark for questioning. As I asked what was to happen, the other officer told me that Mark had a case upon against him regarding money laundering and tax evasion. “He’s been under investigation for a while,” the officer explained. “This discovery might just be the evidence we need.” I watched as they led Mark away, feeling a mix of shock and relief. The situation was finally making some sense.  The officer thanked me for the call and asked me to give the cat a treat for this perfect discovery. “You did the right thing,” he said, shaking my hand. “And make sure to give that cat a treat. It’s practically a hero.” I nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude towards the persistent stray. “Will do,” I promised, looking down at the cat who had brought so much trouble and yet, resolution.  The building owner faced legal consequences and was replaced by a new, more responsible landlord. It didn’t take long for word to spread through the building. “Did you hear? Mark Jensen’s been arrested,” Mrs. Thompson whispered to Mr. Lee. “Good riddance,” he replied. The new landlord, Mr. Peterson, introduced himself to everyone. “I’m here to ensure this place runs smoothly,” he assured us. It felt like a new chapter was beginning for all of us.  Animal control finally managed to capture the stray cat. One morning, I heard a knock on my door. “We got the cat,” the officer said, holding the grey feline gently. “It put up a bit of a fight, but we got it.” The cat looked at me with those familiar eyes, and I felt a pang of sadness. “Thank you,” I said, relieved that the situation was finally resolved.  Neighbors expressed relief and gratitude for the resolution of the situation. “I can finally sleep through the night,” Mr. Lee said with a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness it’s over,” Mrs. Thompson added. Everyone seemed lighter, the tension that had gripped the building dissipating. We all shared a sense of gratitude, not just for the solution but for the unexpected way it had come about.  The stray cat was taken to a shelter for proper care and rehoming. “We’ll make sure it gets the care it needs,” the officer assured me as they prepared to leave. The cat looked back at me one last time, its eyes soft and calm. “Take care,” I whispered, feeling a strange connection to the little creature that had caused so much commotion. The shelter van drove away, taking the cat to a new beginning.  I felt bad about the cat being taken to the shelter and decided to pay the shelter a visit. A few days later, I drove over, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. The shelter staff welcomed me warmly. “You’re here to see the grey cat, right?” they asked. “Yes,” I replied, my heart racing. They led me to a cozy room where the cat was resting, looking up as I entered.  After arriving at the shelter, I found that the cat was still there and offered to adopt him. “I’d like to take him home,” I said to the shelter worker. She smiled warmly. “That’s wonderful! We’ll get the paperwork ready.” The grey cat seemed to recognize me, rubbing against the cage bars. “Looks like he’s happy to see you,” the worker noted. I nodded, feeling a sense of rightness about the decision.  With my new cat, I returned home, and my life returned to normal. The cat settled in quickly, finding his favorite spots and adjusting to the routine. I felt a sense of peace and companionship I hadn’t expected. “Welcome home, buddy,” I said, scratching his ears. The building felt different now, quieter, calmer. The strange saga had come to an end, and a new chapter had begun.  My neighbor visits to talk about what happened and now sees the cat and jokes that it had been mine all along. “So, it really was your cat all along,” Mr. Lee teased, pointing at the grey furball lounging on my couch. I laughed, shaking my head. “Seems that way, doesn’t it?” I replied. “I guess he chose me.” We both chuckled, the tension of the past weeks finally lifted.  I laugh along and tell him he was; I just didn’t know it yet. “He was mine all along, I just didn’t know it yet,” I said, smiling at the cat. Mr. Lee nodded, “Well, he knew. That’s what matters.” We shared a moment of understanding. The cat looked up at us, content and calm. It was clear now that this unexpected journey had led us exactly where we were meant to be.