So OSFO and I concluded our stint as weekend cat sitters. And for our final appearance, both cats, Jethro and Phoebe, made themselves visible.

Phoebe sat in the master bedroom bed as regal as ever. Bathed in the late afternoon sun, she exuded a golden glow. And Jethro, the skittish one, stayed under the bed. He does have a strange meow though we didn’t think it sounded like he was saying "batman" or "mommy."

Once downstairs again, we heard a ringing — it sounded like the phone but it only rang once. Then it rang again a half minute later. OSFO ran to the window and said there’s someone there. " We’re not expecting anyone, let’s ignore it," I said. "Are you scared," she asked. "No, I just don’t want to answer it," I said.

We stayed in the kitchen until the ringing stopped. Then OSFO went to the front door. "It was a delivery, mom," she said. "There’s one of those stickers on the door."

We opened the door and signaled the UPS man. "We didn’t hear the doorbell ring," I said sheepishly. "I can sign for the package."

We went upstairs one last time and checked on the cats. More importantly we checked on the gate to make sure it was secure (Don’t let the cats downstairs, they’ll wreak havoc," the cat owner said).

It was hard to imagine Phoebe, that elegant cat languorously splayed out on the master bedroom bed, wreaking havoc. It was hard to imagine her breaking a sweat.

Now Jethro, the feral one, he’s the one to watch.