Where's Tibby?

I was sitting out on the downstairs deck when I heard a cat meowing plaintively somewhere nearby. Scanning the surrounding area and seeing no felines in distress or otherwise, I returned to the word puzzle I was solving. Lucy and Milo were out there with me, but Tibby was off somewhere else, keeping her own counsel I assumed. 

The mewing began again, this time a little more desperately, and I would have thought it was Tibby, but for the fact that there were no windows open upstairs. Still, I thought it strange that she was not outside with us: she's a cat that rushes the deck anytime the doors are open. So, I went into the house to investigate, calling her name. 

First I checked the downstairs powder room; it's another door she rushes, and she's been known to get closed in. No Tibby. I made my way upstairs, and the kitty cry got a little louder. Where is she? I wondered and poking my head in the master bedroom saw that all the closets and the bathroom were open, but the meowing was definitely coming from somewhere nearby. 

Could she have gotten out on the deck? I thought, but dismissed the idea-- I had been out there briefly to water the plants, and despite the fact she had tried to dash out there I had deftly used a foot to block the way. It's too hot out there, I told her and stepped away closing the door behind me to keep the ac in. Even so, I pulled the door open to check, and there she was-- not on the deck, but squeezed between the screen and the door. 

Oh! There was a lot of white fur floating, and the screen was well scratched when she dashed into the house, no worse for wear and probably no wiser either.