Me? No. I'm from suburbia.
Next shenanigan:
Back before we were married, my wife had her own apartment for a while. One evening, after spending the day with me, she returned home to find one of her two cats... missing. Her other cat was present and unconcerned. Her door had been closed and locked when she arrived, and there was a stairway and another closed and locked door between her place and the outside world. She checked, and her landlord had not been in the apartment that day. Nothing in the place was disturbed.
Now, this was a tiny apartment, I think under 600 square feet, including the bath. There wasn't much of a place for a cat to hide. She checked under and behind furniture, and still no cat. She checked if windows had been open (they weren't). She started looking up in the drop ceiling, because she couldn't think of anywhere else he could be. Finally convinced that he simply could not be in the apartment, she decided she should start looking outside and in the neighborhood. She went to her dresser to get something warmer to wear, opened the bottom drawer, and there was the cat, curled up and now blinking blearily at her because she had interrupted his nap.
Apparently, he had managed to crawl under the dresser, pop the back of the drawer off, and crawl inside the nice dark, warm soft fabric filled cat nesting spot.
