Early on this Earth Day, Mother Nature decided to assert her power in a spectacular thunderstorm. It must have been around 2:30-ish, because I was woken by the cat leaving the pillow.
She paced the room restlessly after I shut the window and went to try to fall asleep again. Just as I started drifting off again, I heard a pathetic meow from the foot of the bed. I figured my poor arthritic kitty was trying to get back up on the bed, so I went to help her up (spoiled? I know not the meaning of that word).
No cat. I looked around in the dark, didn't see her. Still, the sound had come from near the foot of the bed. Playing a hunch, I looked under said bed . . .
. . . to find one frightened cat huddled there, eyes large from fear and the dark.
My cat does not run from dogs five times her size; indeed, her refusal to move left a stray dog trapped on our deck once, scrabbling to climb over the railing in order to avoid the calico cat guarding the steps. She goes on the offensive if another cat comes within five feet of her, and if separated by a door, she will yowl and snarl and pace at the door.
But one good storm had her cowering for cover. It amused me.
And I decided to write a sappy pet post.
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Now playing: Underoath - A Boy Brushed Red Living in Black and White
via FoxyTunes
1 comment:
I love storms, but I've never noticed if my pets are scared or not. How awful is that? Next time we have a storm, I'll pay attention to them.
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