Bad kitty! Bad Tracy!
So I went outside (in my pajamas, because wearing pajamas makes everything better) to check the mail (I got a new ATM card --- didn't know the old one was that close to expiring), and on my way back in Iggy Pop made a bold escape attempt. He got as far as the front porch, but I caught him by his tail and dragged him back inside, pulling the screen door closed behind us and trying my best to ignore his pathetic angry-hurt-sad cat noises.
Now I am feeling very guilty for being mean to my kitty, but dammit, if he's going to get into fights with the neighbor cats when he goes outside, then he's not going out. (Today, anyway; I bet we'll feel differently tomorrow at 5 AM or whenever he starts his yowling, and he gets really twitchy and unhappy if we keep him in for more than a few days anyway.) But I still feel like a really bad cat mama. I might have to buy back his love with canned food. I am such a wuss.