Shown below, relaxing in lazy comfort, is one quadruped who responds (at times) to the name Luna. The cat belongs to my daughter, and yesterday, while I was visiting at my daughter's apartment, we were throwing out the final boxes and trash left over from Christmas. After that, we ran some errands and returned home a couple of hours later to make dinner. No one could find the cat. After searching every corner of the apartment, someone remembered seeing the cat playing in the boxes by the front door earlier that day. We head downstairs, stomp across the snow to the nearest dumpster, and look inside. One of the boxes we'd thrown away was open and on its side. A closer inspection revealed the reflection of two small eyes from the corner of the dumpster. I climbed inside and hauled Luna from the darkness, covering my fingers in the ketchup that had somehow got on the cat's fur. The cat was unharmed, except perhaps for her dignity. She promptly ignored everyone upon being returned to the apartment, gave herself a bath, and went to sleep. Everyone was happy to see her back safe from her adventures.