I don't know why this umbrella is just sitting open in our yard, though I'm pretty sure it's NOT to make a cool fort for kitties. Honey has been cleaning like mad, getting us ready to move, and I guess maybe he felt the umbrella needed to dry out? I'm thinking this is some pretty solid proof that cats don't like to get wet. Pretty darn cute, and silly. I may have taken the cake on silly though. Or a waaaay too overactive imagination.... I went for a short hike yesterday. CL wasn't home, and I thought about locking the door, but decided not to. I was already a bit up the hill, and I figured I would stay in sight of home. Besides, I live on a one lane boondock mountain road, right? I only hiked around for maybe 20 minutes, dragging sticks through the leaves and tossing acorns for Pheonix, Sebastian, and Maggie. Lilly was quite content in bed, thank you very much.
After I got my bit of fresh air I was hungry, and so were the kitties because they went straight for the food bowl. I washed my hands, always the first thing I do after a hike, whether or not I'm about to eat. You just never know when a twig of poison oak is going to leap out from behind you and wipe it's rash inducing oils on your skin. Then I looked down at the hungry scarfers, smiling, about to say something like, "fun walk, huh guys?". I always talk to them like I would anyone else. Any one else who's super cute and likes to hear my voice get all high pitched and googly. Ok, not all the time, but I just can't help it.
Well, Lilly had apparently gotten up from her nap, because she was standing next to the others. But she wasn't eating. She was staring at the curtain that gives us the illusion of having a seperate room. Plus it's nice when people standing at the front door CAN"T see you sleeping; I always shut the curtain before bed and open it in the morning. Yet it was closed mid day and Lilly was staring at it. And not just staring, she was poised for fight or flight, the hint of raised hackles showing and her tail starting to bush out.
Pheonix glanced that way, but resumed eating, so I wasn't sure what to think. Lilly was unwavering. I remembered that I had pulled the curtain closed while I sat at my computer by the front door. The heater was by me and there was no reason to waste electricity heating the other "room". But I thought I opened it before I went outside, because hiking always warms me up and then when I come back the house seems too warm. I thought I would disperse the heat at the front a bit. But here was Lilly, pupils dilated, starting to growl and never taking her ears from the closed curtain.
At first I thought, silly girl, she see a dust bunny catch a breeze or something? Mmm hmmm. Yeah, that would be a LOGICAL assumption. But I'm the girl who sees trees with aliens ala Sigourney Weaver bursting out of them, rotting corpses shambling through the dusk intent on brain paté, and ambassadors from other planets in all their cream puff glory. My stomach went sour and my blood started to pump a little faster. What if someone had entered my house when I wasn't looking?
There have been homeless people staying in that abandoned house down the street, and sometimes under the bridge to our road. And homeless pretty much usually means broke, and not always but sometimes leads to getting what you can however you can, regardless of legal concerns. I mean, what have you got to lose? I hope this isn't totally prejudice of me. I mean, I know having no permanent residence doesn't make you a criminal.
It's just that when you're standing in your home, and your cat is eyeballing a closed curtain like it's hiding the boogeyman ( boogeycat?) a lot of things cross your mind. Like, should I leave? Investigate? If I walk through the curtain am I gonna be like the dumb girl in every scary movie who you roll your eyes at and say, "dumbass, don't go in there!" And theives sound more realistic than the other things I mentioned... obviously. So what did I do? I grabbed the biggest butcher knife we have (not just for cooking, also handy in home invasions and horror movies!) and went for the curtain.
The scariest part was pushing the curtain aside. My knife wielding was compromised and and the element of suprise was up for grabs. I just about choked on my heart when it jumped into my throat, except I think I was holding my breath so I couldn't actually choke. It was all dark in there, because we keep heavy curtains on the single pane windows for heat retaining purposes. Nothing jumped out and grabbed me, but I still had to go around the bookshelf on the right.
There was nothing, or nobody, there. I checked every nook big enough to hold a person or zombie or cream puff assassin. Then I looked back at Lilly, who was peering into the room with such big eyes it was like she was seeing THROUGH the room. "Lilly, you dork," I said. I gave a shaky laugh. "There's nothing here". She didn't believe me, so I turned on all the lights, just in case there was an invisible ghost or something. Light dispells spooks, as any kid knows. Lilly cocked her head, and examined a cobweb. (Crap, I just admitted there's cobwebs in my house. In fact, "Pretty darn big Cobs, too" my Honey remarked just this morning.
Anyway, once again my kitty-cat alarm system failed me. Mountain Lion alert= actually bug in some dry leaves. Invasion of horror movie humans or Other= cobwebs. I returned the knife to it's drawer. And, despite the protests of my inner Green voter, left all the lights on the rest of the day.