Let me tell you about my morning. I have two psychotic cats (yes, I know all cats are psychotic by definition, but these are more so than most). However, even knowing their psychotic nature, I had never previously had any undue concern about any murderous tendencies; or, more accurately, I felt fairly secure in my assumption that, even if they wanted to kill us, they wouldn’t be able to get sufficiently coordinated to do so, lacking opposable thumbs. Now, I’m not so sure….
I have a drive-under garage, which serves as overnight parking for both my car and my felines. One of them, some time ago, developed the habit of beating up the neighbor cats, so she’s confined indoors. So, to prevent her from escaping when I open the garage door on my way to work, I usually let her upstairs into the house first.
Picture the scene. I walk to the basement door, open it, and ask as usual if she’d like to come upstairs. I hear silence for a moment, then the jingle of the bell on her collar. Instead of next hearing the delicate tread of her soft paws on the stairs (read: herd of elephants), however, I hear a crash, then scrabbling and rustling of plastic for awhile. Then silence again. I start down the stairs. It’s at this point that I realize my cats are trying to kill me: there is a tripwire stretched across the stairs at just ankle height. And a kite, which was previously stowed on the other side of the basement, is now over against the garage door, its string spool still lodged at its starting point.
I’m moving the pruning shears.
After being somewhat under the weather most of the holiday weekend, I was in need of some fresh air. So after I got off work this evening, I took myself for a brief hike. The photos aren’t great, since I snapped them in a hurry (it didn’t seem a pleasant prospect being caught on an unfamiliar trail alone in the dark, so I was pushing quite a bit faster than I otherwise would), but they give a bit of an idea.
