Estimated reading time: 2 minutes
Sami likes to walk on the patio railing, and we live on the third floor.
I tell him not to.
He flicks his tail and keeps going. Like it’s his runway.
One day, I was on the phone with my husband.
I looked up… and Sami was gone.
Just gone.
My heart dropped.
I called him.
Checked every corner. Under the bed. Behind the curtain.
Nothing.
In those five minutes, I thought all the things you don’t want to think.
Did he fall?
Did he run?
Would I even find him?
I ran downstairs.
He was sitting calmly on the grass, outside the neighbor’s patio.
Just… sitting there. Looking up at me like, “Hey.”
No panic. No drama.
Maybe a little confused.
Or maybe proud.
I think he thought it was our place.
Same layout, just… wrong floor.
Somehow, he’d fallen — or jumped — from the third floor.
And walked it off like it was no big deal.
I picked him up and brought him back upstairs.
He was fine. Totally fine.
I wasn’t.
That same week, I installed bird netting around the balcony.
Now he still walks the rail.
But at least I sleep better.
After thought
I’m glad we are only on 3rd floor.
