About Me

I am blessed with an incredible marriage to my best friend - Dawn. We have two beautiful daughters - Sarah, who is 20 and in college and Molly, who is 16 and going to be a Junior. I couldn't be more proud of all the women in my life. I love music and have the awesome opportunity to use it each and every day at First Baptist Church, Woodward, OK. God has blessed me and my family way beyond our wildest dreams. My life long dream has been to learn to fly and God is allowing me to fulfill that dream. As of right now I have 13.2 hrs and am within about 7 hrs from soloing. Dear God Help me!

Saturday, March 28, 2009

"If Pets could Talk"


Have you ever wondered what animals think when they went 'out' the night before and there was somewhere to "go" and then they get up the next morning, you open the door, the cold air hits them in the face and they look at you like you are stupid or like you must be punishing them.  

This morning, Daisy was the first one to become aware that the earth had been consumed by a whole bunch of white fluff.  She knew the yard had to be out there somewhere but, "where?" 

 First, it was to the north end of the porch, where the fluff seemed taller than her and she surely would disappear  if she dared step into it.  Then it was toward the familiar spot, but, "how do I get there?"  "I think I can smell it in the air, but has some one bleached the grass."  "I better find a spot quick or it's going to be to late."  She looked at me like, "could you please help me, I'm fixin' to explode.  She had that look on her face--you know, that one of desperation she gets right before she throws up and knows she is going to get in trouble, but she can't do anything about it.  

So I picked her up, looked for the most shallow place, and sort of gently toss her in that direction.  Oops! where did she go? Oh, "there she is,"  when she pops up, as if the snow regurgitates her up.  Well that was all it took. Sort of like when warm water hits us, she wet right there on the patio.  So I was nice and scooped a place where she generally goes,  right off of the sidewalk so she would have some grass to 'go' on.
Then Patch, our cat, was exposed to her horror. She came in this morning, about 5 a.m. and I knew she wanted out but I wasn't quite ready to get up.  You know how it is, you finally would be able to sleep past 6 a.m. and it's like your kids are little again. She stood over us with her delightful "meow" --sort-of-soft, baby kitty sound.  Of course, when you don't move, that voice crescendos to a fortissimo at accelerando speed.  (I had to throw some musical terms in for interest!) 

 So I finally got up and went to the door.  She always holds it until the last minute when she senses there has been a weather change outside. They have that innate instinct that something has happened outside, they are just not sure what it is.  Anyway, when I opened the door, she rushed to it with determination, but the blizzard cold front hit her whiskers and she cowered back in.  However, the situation was pressing and there was not much time left.  So, with resignation she hunkered down and made  her way out.  

Have you ever noticed when something in your life is a drastic distraction - like for a cat, 4 to 6 feet snow drifts, 27 degree temperatures, with a 25 mph winds hitting you in the face - the urge momentarily subsides.  Because she stood there for a moment, and then with a look of curiosity, ventured to what in her mind used to be the edge of the porch.  Looked out at the endless mounds of uh, uh, uh, well I'm not sure what the white it is. 

Then, you know how a cat will stick its paw in a hole to see what's in there?   She slowly stuck her paw down in the snow, off of the edge of the porch, reaching further and deeper. 
She never reached the bottom because the snow was at least a 1 ft. right there and it's as if she said, "just as I thought, it's gone, the ground has been swallowed up by who knows what." 

She then came back to her senses because the urge hit her again.  She raced to the window and stood meowing with desperation in her cry. 

Of course, Dawn and I are standing in the kitchen, looking out the window laughing, as she continues to beller!

After taking pictures, because I wanted to share this story, I let her in.  I don't believe I have ever seen her move so quickly to the litter box, which she never uses, except for in the state of an emergency, and this definitely was one of those times.

3 comments:

Sarah Castor said...

HAHA! That was totally funny! I loved it! I wish I could have been there!

Dawn said...

very good storytelling! It cracks me up that you put Patch's 'sweet baby kitty' voice in there when you profess to dislike her.....:)

Andi said...

Great post! I was wondering if Patch would give in and ever use her litter box!