Last night I let Gomi out, as I have been doing, on nights when I need the sleep and she is particularily restless. Throughout the night I heard intervals of meowing, but was too tired and groggy to enter into the morning calm. Finally after the sun crested the horizon and my intense dreams of love and misfortune were over, I went on the search. I called to her "Yoogdoogoo", "Yoogdoogoo". There was some lady in a pink jumpsuit, toting a white-fluff-ball-lap-dog looking on. She seemed to be a concerned neigbour. We all turned, pink lady, white dog and I, to hear the call of a very vocal cat, coming from inside a car on the street. Yes, inside. I guess Gomi had found the heat of an engine and a way to crawl in next to it. I called her from several angles to see if she could escape her mobile prison, but I feared the worst. My Gramma's cat did a similar trick many years ago and was badly injured when the vehicle was started up and her little kitty legs were in the fan. Luckily Gomi had no such incedent. She eventually found her way through the mechanical and undercarriage labrynth and lept into my arms. Pink lady looked on with mixed empathy and annoyance. Then as to drive the point home, she leaned down and began picking up the shredded trash bags on the corner, that very well could have been part of Gomi's late night escapades. I guess this means no more sweet dreaming-peacfull sleep for me. Gomi has officially become a house cat. What do I do with this creature?!