Outside, a thunderstorm brews and the winds pick up speed. Inside, incessant babble and keening of two grandchildren. My sanity is preserved by a door which, though locked, cannot completely filter the frequencies because it has a hole in it, for the convenience of the cats.At the first rumble, an ear pricks up and rotates slightly. As it settles back, another rumble brings the head up and the eyes open. The rain begins in earnest, and the owner of the ears moves quickly out of harm's way. She begins a new vigil near the interior doorway, to be ready for the event that she most desires, the opening of the bedroom door and the emergence of J, on whose chest, in front of the computer, she will truly begin her day.
Lightning. Now nature has the cats' full attention. There is a world of birds out there, seemingly within easy reach, but the era of chattering teeth, twitching tails and guttural whining has long since passed. Maturity, along with indoor captivity has attenuated their interest in those feathered morsels who flit so tantalizingly close to edibility.
A roll of thunder. The orange cat turns around to face the interior. Still in his bower, he considers whether he, too, should retreat to a less exposed venue. But to do so, he would have to pass The Vigilant One, who would not take any such intention as less than a challenge to do momentary battle. Old instincts do not pass easily.
A Mozart violin concerto begins on the computer. The Vigilant One stretches languidly and commences her morning lick. Evidently she has calculated, based on noises that only she can hear, or perhaps some innate timekeeping facility, that it is coming close to the time of emergence.
She is not disappointed. Barely has she completed her grooming when J opens the doors. The inner door is one of the few that does not have a cat hole. The prospect of a cat ensconced in The Old Allergic Guy's bed was as unwelcome as the cat's sudden materialization in the bedroom. The Old Allergic Guy, therefore, added a screen door to the outside of the frame, a solution which proved antidotal to the element of surprise. There have been lapses of attention, but on the whole, the animals are excluded.
But now, two cats have accompanied J to the bathroom, and there this tale must end. It is the same each Sunday morning, a comfortable diversion, varying slightly with the weather, of course. And no bird is ever harmed in the observance of this ritual.
