For me the king of all slug days is the day after Thanksgiving. The day where you drowsily wake up, stomach slightly distended from yesterday’s bounty and with the pungent scent of stuffing and roast turkey lingering in your hair. The day where everyone else seems to be orderly and organized, full of energy and somehow able to shop and put up holiday decorations. Major accomplishments for me on slug days come along the lines of getting out of bed, showering – and realizing for the first time that the specialty handmade soap you picked up on your visit to wine country smells distinctly like last night’s dinner.

This year was no different. After hosting a houseful of family on Turkey Day, I relished a day of doing nothing other than bemoaning the loss of my waistline. I had my aching feet up, poultry scented hair down, my continuously filled coffee cup at my elbow and a stack of magazines in my lap.

It just so happens that this slug day also turned into one of the most emotional days of the year for me. I was contemplating the merits of printing a few more lost cat flyers and visiting the houses below ours in person to see if anyone had sighted our wayward feline. Had I been out shopping or stringing merry lights on the eaves I would have missed THE most important phone call I’ve had in a very long time. Stanley the cat was possibly found! Of course this was the one time that the lazy slug me decided to punch the “call screen” button on my phone… the poor soul calling me didn’t give up when my phone rudely demanded her name and reason for calling. Luckily she chose to look past my uppity phone and dial me back. Thankfully we connected and I welcomed the great news….my missing cat had been discovered living in her attic for a week!

I quickly ran down the hill to the caller’s house only to find out that the rascal was on the lam yet again. Having thought to grab all able bodied family members nearby, some of whom were also in food coma recovery mode as well, we started scouring the neighborhood in a systematic way. And by systematic, I mean frantically yelling his name and walking in circles in the rain. Eventually a skinny, raggedy version of our feisty feline Stanley found his own way back to our house, his homing device still apparently intact after a week without food and water. A thousand hugs, kisses, ear scratches and loud rumbling purrs later, our house was complete again.

And I have a newfound appreciation for Slug Day. Sometimes good things do happen when you’re an amorphous blob on the couch. Sometimes when you start to think something is lost for good, life will turn around and hand you back your cat … and maybe your waistline And for that I am very thankful.