Bite Me
I have very little to say this holiday season. I've been content.
Content is quiescent. The people around me have been content. For many
others it hasn't been so good. I could pick at the scab of ambient
trivial controversy and make issue with those who proclaim I am
striking down Christianity with my nonsectarian 'holiday season'
greeting. Fine, have it your way. From me; then, "Merry Christmas" and
"Happy new year". Also from me in honor of a new holiday I'm setting up
- a few days after boxing day in honor of the coming new year -
Futurama day. Where we are all Bender for a day, I issue to those who
need it: a warm and sincerely meant "Bite My Shiny Metal Ass".
At any rate today I have a Kitty story. What kind of web log
would this be without some kitty stories. I go over to my sisters
house for the (see all above) Holidays. At one point on Christmas Eve
my sister looks out the window and notes that there are a number of
deer strolling down the street. They are however not Reindeer, they are
not Santa's deer, though there are enough to pull a sleigh if you had
one. They seem more interested in chewing the ornamental shruberry of the neighbor across the
street than delivering toys. The boys,
Grant and Raine, 7 and 3 are in bed. Feeling I needed to share
the moment I turn around and lite upon, Merry, my sister's 1012 year old
tortoise shell cat (her other cat's name is Turin) who had the
misfortune to be crossing the living room at that moment. Merry is not
a particularly adventurous or inquisitive cat. Easily alarmed might be
the best way to describe her. This is a cat from whom the only
indication of animation comes from her ability to be asleep curled into
a ball in whatever patch of the house is being heated by an air duct or
touched by a shaft of sunlight.
I scoop Merry up, and step out into the front yard. These deer
are not your scrawny small upcountry deer. They are large robust well
nourished suburban deer. The locale of this story is that part of
metropolitan area where Rock Creek, the Beltway, and Wisconsin Ave all
come together. These are not small animals. They note my presence, and
could care less. Merry at first is not sure why I've brought her
outside on such a cold night. Then she sees the deer. She goes
quite rigid and flattens herself against my jacket. Her eyes widened
further than I've ever seen a cats eye go, or knew they needed to go.
She begins to breath with funny little puffs. It occurs to me that she
has probably never seen a deer before. She may not be aware that deer
don't eat cats. At least I don't think they do. I'm making no
guarantees about these deer. I bring her back inside and put her down on
the floor. Rather than skitter away she roots to the spot and spends
the rest of the evening staring at the front door swaying slightly back
and forth. Every so often she would walk to the front window
which is one of these ceiling to floor living room and peer around the
curtain into the yard and stare at the deer who hung around for a
while.
I felt bad after a while because it occurred to me that
I had introduced into the internal and imagining world of this
poor creature an unpleasant and hitherto unsuspected aspect of what is
and waits in the world without. But then, people do this much for
me every day.
11:40:02 PM  ;;
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