[ WP ] You are a cat and your home is being burglarized . Do everything you must to foil their plans and alert your owner .

The burglar did n't know what hit him. 
 
 I'll admit that being on security detail was not one of the most glamorous jobs I'd been on, and having to be in cat form did n't make it any better. Though I suppose I really should n't have expected any better from a punishment meted out by the Grand Fizzlewiz himself, and I probably could've landed a lot worse. I heard one guy ended up shoveling dung for the better part of a century -- no vacations. By comparison, this cat job with its lax hours and decent benefits was a slight tap on the wrist. I'd be done and back to my normal self before you could say `` meow''. 
 
 And besides, nothing is quite as humiliating to a human as being out-witted by a cat. 
 
 I got a running start from the carpeted living room and shuttled out onto the shiny kitchen floor, newly mopped by Mrs Anderson. I let myself go into a controlled glide, belly close to the floor to become more aerodynamic, and bowled right into the first burglar's legs. He crashed to the floor with a curse. The second one, a woman, tensed as she heard the commotion, but then relaxed as she saw little old me crouched on the floor, looking innocent-as-you-please. 
 
 She shot her compatriot a hard look and raised a finger to her lips, in the universal `` shut up, nimwit'' sign. He shook his head and began to pick himself off the floor, slipping a little as he tried to get traction. 
 
 `` Sorry, Tamra, the cat just...'' 
 
 `` Shhh!'' Tamra hissed. `` Get the amulet, get in, get out. No talking. Go fast, if they heard something they'll be down here soon.'' 
 
 They were after the amulet? That was bad news. I jumped lithely onto the counter, trying to get a better look at the woman's face. I did n't recognize her. Also bad news. I thought I knew most of the people who were direct threats to the Anderson family, and it did not include these guys. If hired scum were coming after the family jewels ( heh ), that could only end poorly for us all. Happily, I'd made provisions for such `` visitors'' as these. 
 
 The woman, Tamra, continued to ignore me as they skulked out of the kitchen and into the living room, where I had just come from. The amulet was not in there. It was in the bathroom, hidden underneath a variety of other mismatched jewelry in a cabinet underneath the sink. I slinked off to prepare my trap. 
 
 Several long minutes later, it was ready. It had taken longer than it did back when I had hands, but with the help of a little magic here and there, it was done. I bounced my way out of the bathroom and down the hall, tail twitching in anticipation. I could hear the loud, clumsy human burglars rummaging around in the dining room; it would n't be long before they exhausted that option and came down this hallway. 
 
 I waited, and I watched. 
 
 As soon as I heard them coming, I curled up into a tiny ball of sleepy-kitty, turning the disinterest to 11. By the time they entered the hallway, the only thing that could've betrayed me as being laser-focused on their movements would've been the occasional tail-twitch. 
 
 They did n't notice, and the burly man I'd knocked over earlier opened the bathroom door, which was already slightly ajar. Or he attempted to. It was a noble attempt. It did not work out as he planned. 
 
 A variety of hair-torturing instruments, including at least two straightening-irons, fell from their precarious perches on the ajar door and onto the floor and the man, provoking a loud curse from the man and an even louder clang of various metal objects hitting the bathroom tile. With my enhanced hearing, I sensed the click of a light switch upstairs; the Andersons were well and truly moving now. As the floorboards above started creaking, Tamra and Mr Brawny started a discussion in low, heated tones. But I was n't done with them quite yet. I got up, stretched, and walked over to them. The wonderful thing about being a cat is that almost everyone ignores you. If I had been a human coming at them, they would've already been running. 
 
 As it was, I had time enough to take a healthy bite out of the man's left leg as I sauntered casually past. Before he had even had time to yelp, I pulled back out of kicking range and raked my claws down the woman's nearby leg as well. Then I ran for it, up the stairs and towards the oncoming Andersons. I heard a shuffle behind me, but that was no longer my concern. The burglars were probably long gone, the Andersons calling the police, and as for me? I had a bit of blood from each of them. 
 
 I allowed myself a happy butt wiggle as I retreated to my small cat-bed on the second floor. With a little blood-curse, those two would n't live long enough to tell their employer what had happened. 
 
 By the time the police had come, I was already curled up asleep on my cat bed.
