Maybe I'm mistaken in thinking that Amelia hasn't experienced rain in person in ten years. Obviously it's rained a LOT since I started letting her out last year. But I think I've been careful not to let her go in the rain. Until today.
Not that we're having a return of the flood waters. It hasn't been very hard at all, nor cold nor uncomfortable. But she's a cat! Not supposed to be a fan of the wet stuff. Experience teaches that she's definitely not a fan of baths. But she doesn't seem to mind it a lot. On the other hand, she just flashed me her devil eyes, something that shouldn't be possible unless it's a lot darker than it is out here. So I don't know; maybe letting her outside isn't such a good idea. Could it be Satan?
Anyway, this was going to be a rumination on the costs of freedom. Into each cat's life, some rain must fall, or something like that. But she seems not to be counting the cost, and if anything digging it. As the porch overhang is protecting my laptop, I guess I'm digging it, too. But I wouldn't mind the sun coming back out either.
No comments:
Post a Comment