Originally intended to document my experience of DeLorean ownership, focus is often radical and strange, boring and obtuse.

Friday, June 30, 2006

The Scaredy Cat

Scaredy Cat.

Lil Doobie likes to explore our backyard. Yes, she's a curious kitty, but curiosity hasn't "gotten" her yet. We've never really let her roam before because she's such a scaredy cat, and because we used to live near a fairly vehicularly populated road.

But our newish house is in a more secluded area near conservation lands, and is much less trafficy. We also have a non-electrified fence running the perimeter of our yard, with one main guard tower from which we watch her every move. This helps hold our kitties in, yet it doesn't kill them. It's quite neat, that old 1930's property definition technology.

During one of Doobie's recent explorations, she encountered something that triggered her auto-puff defense mechanism. The silence was eerie as Doobie began to grow larger and larger for some unknown reason. Her tail expanded and her back rose.

"What the heck is going on?" I thought.

Fence Dog.Then I looked into my neighbour's yard. Even then it took me a few moments (1 moment equals approximately 1.2 seconds) to notice the quiet black face staring through the fence. My neighbour doesn't have a dog, so it was a surprise to see this large curly-furred canine giving Bean such a fright.

I decided this would be a super radical opportunity to take a picture from each animal's perspective. Doggy saw kitty. Kitty saw doggy. Neither one said anything. They just looked at each other while the staring contest judge watched for blinking motion.

I put Doobie in the house to reduce her stress, and convinced her that coming in second place was good enough. She was content with her 'participation' ribbon and I rammed some catnip into her face to ease her mind.

Then, in typical fashion, our other cat, Stoner (aka Roner), came running into the sunroom to partake in the getting high. The kitties rolled on the carpet, forgetting all that troubled them that day.

Doobie was so sweet, she didn't even revert to her angry stoned personality. Usually she'll start a boxing match with Roner (aka Stoner) when she gets high, but not this day. This day, I think, she was just happy to be alive. Or happy to be stoned. I don't know.

8 Comments:

Blogger ms. creek said...

wow dude, my cats are like that too! cool, man!

4:12:00 PM

 
Blogger Martini said...

Take a picture! Let's see those giant puff balls! I know about George Dog, but I didn't know you had another one.

4:49:00 PM

 
Blogger ms. creek said...

okay, go meet TT the snotty naughty little brat.

9:17:00 PM

 
Blogger SJ said...

Hypothetically If I were your pet I could get weed?

3:42:00 PM

 
Blogger Martini said...

Hypothetically, yes.

11:42:00 AM

 
Blogger ms. creek said...

hey, glad you got to read about my naughty tt! lol

9:30:00 PM

 
Blogger Rowan said...

awww! not only do have the cutest kitty babies, but you have a sunroom? no freaking fair! I'm still trying to talk the hubby into getting one for us err...ok....me!

3:37:00 PM

 
Blogger Martini said...

Wellllll..... it's no prize at 67 years old. It's all-original, built onto the back of our house in 1939. It has original, single pane windows and it's totally showing its age.

2:01:00 PM

 

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