This story took place sometime in 1981 or 2. Pam and I lived in a tiny apartment in Toronto. Our long time friend Barnabas was temporarily living with us as he got his bearings when moving back to the city. Barnabas also came with his itty bitty cat named Fang. It was pretty tight quarters with just Pam and me. Adding Barnabas and Fang worsened that.

Barnabas and I were sitting in the living room on the couch watching TV. To our left was the doorway to the bedroom. To our right was the doorway to the kitchen.

We heard an angry yell from Fang from the kitchen. We then heard an angry yell from Pam from the kitchen. “Damn it!”

Barnabas and I looked toward the kitchen doorway on the right. We saw Fang fly from the doorway, across the room, and through the bedroom doorway. We saw neither Fang’s launching or landing. We did hear the clickety clackety sound of Fang’s claws as she tried to stop sliding on the floor after landing.

Apparently, Fang had literally gotten underfoot with Pam again.