Welcome to OnMeowaukee Cat Week, a meowsome bunch of articles, photos, videos and an Instagram contest celebrating all aspects of Milwaukee cats. Sponsored by Bark N' Scratch Outpost, these seven days are dedicated to those creatures with nine lives who make our lives more paw-sitive.

In this series, we peep into the private life of Elmo, a long-haired orange tabby cat who has a penchant for journaling.

Dear Diary,

Psst. This is Elmo. I’m writing with a plea… you’ve got to save us. We’re the victims of a terrible crime, and if something isn’t done soon it will be the end of us. I’m just sure of it.

It all started the other weekend when our masters came home with a crate. They snuck it into the back room, closed the door, and then they didn’t come out for a fairly long while. When they did finally emerge, they shut the door behind them (which naturally makes us suspicious) and plied us with treats and played with us until wee hours of the night. The next day, things continued to be strange.

Every few hours, they went into the room. Sometimes we could hear knocking and shuffling sounds coming from the other side of the door. Other times we could smell cat food. It was driving us crazy, and yet we kept cool. Now we’re getting a bit more nervous. It’s been almost a week and they still haven’t let us see what’s behind the door. A few days ago, they put us in the bathroom, and we could hear them moving the couch out of the room and into the office (where, in my opinion, it really does not make the same decorative statement at all). They never move furniture around unless something BIG is going on. So, I am beginning to feel uneasy.

Zoë and I have been lying on the floor, putting our noses under the door and trying to see what’s on the other side. We catch vague whiffs of something foreign, but we can’t see much of anything. Every so often, if I’m looking very carefully, I catch the BLURRR of something running past the door. And if I’m very quiet, I can hear murmurings coming from the other side. But I do not yet have enough information to ascertain what might lie within. Zoë has taken to growling at the unknown things behind the door. But I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. After all, it might create undue animosity among whatever aliens have taken up residence there. I prefer to snuff and peep, and lie in waiting until I have more information.

I’ve contemplated racing between someone’s legs when they go in or out of the room… and just rushing right into the room, where I could see things clearly. But I dread what lies inside. It could be something horrible… or dangerous. And I can’t take those kinds of risks at my age. And so — I can only remain in waiting. I must go. It’s time to take my hourly peek underneath the door. But I beg you — if you can help us, please do so soon. I fear we might not last much longer.

Yours as ever,

ELMO