Fez had a rough night

Poor Fez.  He didn't have a good Monday night.  I was watching TV last night in the office when I heard the oh so wonderful sound of vomit coming from the bedroom.  The little guy was right in the middle of tossing his cookies not only on the bedspread, but also on my KU fleece throw blanket.  I'm thinking "good aim" and "great that's another 2 loads of laundry that I hadn't planned on doing tonight."  

I walk into the room and he jumps off the bed and yaks some more.  "Sorry buddy.  You're going in the bathroom so I can clean and you can puke on the nice linoleum."  I can't believe his stomach could hold so much.  We're talking a good 1/2 to 3/4 cup of kitty cookies strewn across my bed with a few more tablespoons on the floor.  Gag.  So I clean up the mess and check on my little man in the bathroom.  He looks up at me with such a pitiful look.  I sat down on the toilet and picked him to see if he's ok.  As soon as I start petting him he starts purring.

Fast forward a few hours.  I usually watch TV downstairs on our blue sectional couch while I do laundry.  It's easier to hear the buzzer.  I finish laundry and haul everything upstairs.  After everything is hung up and put away I whistle for Fez to come to bed but he doesn't come in the bedroom.  I don't think anything of it (although he usually spends 6 nights out of the week sleeping with me or Ryan).

The next morning (Tuesday) I got up and whistled for the kitties.  Amy shows up in the hallway.  Crap.  That's never a good sign.  When Amy shows up first that means that Fez got stuck somewhere.

I open the bedroom closet door.  No Fez.

I open the office closet (the uniform closet).  No Fez.

Hall closet?  No Fez.

I try shaking a bag of treats in the kitchen just in case he was downstairs.  No Fez.

That only leaves one place.

I walk downstairs and flip on the light.  "Fez?"  I hear a muffled but distinct "Meow!" from under the couch.  I open the recliner and sure enough, there's Fez hanging out under the couch.  He was even a good boy and didn't potty under the couch.

And you thought you hated Mondays.