The other day I decided to start making a quilt. The down stairs is set up like a giant square. All of the rooms can be opened into the next room through thanks to a couple of clear pocket doors. The sewing machine is set up on the dining room table next to the air conditioner and I kept the rooms mostly closed up to keep it cool. I find it very important to be comfortable when working with fabric. I am getting side tracked. This story isn’t about the quilt. It is about my cats being jerks. Let’s talk about the cats.
The Dib Cat was relaxing as a giant ball of fur in the cat tree next to me as the sewing machine hummed. From where I was sitting I could see that Iggins was sprawled out like a giant orange star fish belly up on the living room rug. For the most part everything is peaceful.
Suddenly both cats go from maximum relaxing mode to predator in the night mode. They are crouched down and intently staring in to the hallway. I can see nothing but a darkened hall way from where I am sitting. My attempts to get their attention fail. Their attention is on the hallway.
I should probably mention that I am alone in the house. This is where in every horror movie cliché you have ever seen where the lone female is in the house and a serial killer shows up. Just as I am beginning to let my imagination run away from me, my husband texts me from the airport as he is waiting on his connecting flight.
My cats are jerks. There was nothing upstairs, and thankfully no bat or serial killer in the kitchen. The rain was hitting the window and the cats were fascinated by the sound.
I love that his first thought is, you have a bat net. I mean that does make you ready for whatever.
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