I closed up the back of the van and got into the driver's seat. I heard a clunk from the back. "Darn it," I thought, "I didn't properly re-stack the empty boxes in the back of the van, and they've fallen over." Then I heard a plaintive mewing emanating from the rear compartment. One of the neighborhood cats had jumped into the back of the van while Lisa and I were unloading it, possibly attracted by the scent of a package of ground bison we'd bought at the grocery store.
I couldn't see the cat back there, but I could hear it. I got out and walked to the back of the van and opened the rear doors. The cat stared back at me and jumped into the front seat. "Get out of there, you darn cat!" I called, but it wouldn't budge. I then open the passenger door and stepped back. The cat launched itself out of the van and high-tailed it to the bushes, where it stopped, hunkered down, and glared at me. I rolled my eyes, made sure there were no other critters in the van, buttoned everything up, and drove over to the trailer.
Lisa would have beaten me to the trailer even ordinarily, but she asked what kept me. I explained the encounter with the orange tabby and she said she was glad she'd taken Kuma Bear with her. Fortunately, the cat had not figured out how to get at the food it could smell in the boxes and bags we'd brought home, so there was no harm done.