Blitz had a hard afternoon yesterday.
It wasn't just because the house smelled like a campfire. The other two furry kids paced and watched me for cues that the house was about to burn down. The house was fine, but they didn't know that. I spent an inordinate amount of time inside yesterday, keeping the doors and windows closed, petting pets and distracting myself, staring out the window.
Blitz didn't have a hard day because the sun was a red disk in the sky either. The sky took on a yellow glow. I stood at the window. Where I grew up, if the sky turned green, it meant there might be a tornado. You needed to watch a green sky, make preparations to move to the West wall in the basement. You needed to prepare yourself for sitting in the dark for hours if the power went out, for straining to hear through the concrete walls and floor above you for the telltale sound of a train rushing by where there were no tracks. You needed to consider a green sky. But this wasn't green. It was a flat yellow sky. I had lived through smoke before, but this yellow sky with a red sun gave me the creeps. I'd notice an orange shadow and it kept taking me some time to figure out it was just sunshine.
The weather report says the next fifteen days will be sunny. No rain. There will be no relief from this awful yellow sky and red sun throwing orange light. But that wasn't why Blitz had a hard afternoon yesterday.
No, Blitz wasn't worried about any of that.
My friend Anna came to the house.
Anna is a quiet person. She loves cats. I really thought that she would be the breakthrough Blitz needed to begin to get over his shyness.
It didn't work to bring lots of friends over to meet him when he was tiny. My poor baby just got more worried every event I scheduled. He buried himself deeper in far rooms in closets in boxes. It didn't help to go find him. It didn't help to crate him first and let him out when people came to see him. They would hold him loosely for a minute and let him dash when he leaped out of their arms. It was sad to bring my most kitten-loving friends over to my house only to have him bolt in abject fear the minute I handed him over. The whole process only made him more fearful not less.
Anna says I should relax and let him be himself.
See what I mean? If anyone could get my little munchkin to relax it's Anna. She understands the introverted and the need for the solace of a quiet house. I just know Blitz would love Anna if he just tried.
There I go, an extrovert trying yet again to get an introvert to change. Blitz is not going to change. My friends are never going to see Blitz's charm as he talks to me in the morning. They are never going to see how funny he is when I pick him up and he uses his front paws to walk up the side of the washing machine. They are never going to decipher his Morse code dashes and dots as he rolls onto his back to get his belly rubbed. They are never going to see how he leaps up and tags Teddy on the shoulder when he wants to start a game. My friends are never going to know my little Blitzen.
The worst part is that if there really is a fire, if the house is burning down and a fireman comes in to rescue the kitten, you know, the hero of the story who gets to be on the cover of Time in his uniform with a kitten in his arms... If the hero comes into my house to save the day?
Blitz is totally going to die.
Thank you for listening, jb
It wasn't just because the house smelled like a campfire. The other two furry kids paced and watched me for cues that the house was about to burn down. The house was fine, but they didn't know that. I spent an inordinate amount of time inside yesterday, keeping the doors and windows closed, petting pets and distracting myself, staring out the window.
Blitz didn't have a hard day because the sun was a red disk in the sky either. The sky took on a yellow glow. I stood at the window. Where I grew up, if the sky turned green, it meant there might be a tornado. You needed to watch a green sky, make preparations to move to the West wall in the basement. You needed to prepare yourself for sitting in the dark for hours if the power went out, for straining to hear through the concrete walls and floor above you for the telltale sound of a train rushing by where there were no tracks. You needed to consider a green sky. But this wasn't green. It was a flat yellow sky. I had lived through smoke before, but this yellow sky with a red sun gave me the creeps. I'd notice an orange shadow and it kept taking me some time to figure out it was just sunshine.
The weather report says the next fifteen days will be sunny. No rain. There will be no relief from this awful yellow sky and red sun throwing orange light. But that wasn't why Blitz had a hard afternoon yesterday.
No, Blitz wasn't worried about any of that.
My friend Anna came to the house.
Anna is a quiet person. She loves cats. I really thought that she would be the breakthrough Blitz needed to begin to get over his shyness.
It didn't work to bring lots of friends over to meet him when he was tiny. My poor baby just got more worried every event I scheduled. He buried himself deeper in far rooms in closets in boxes. It didn't help to go find him. It didn't help to crate him first and let him out when people came to see him. They would hold him loosely for a minute and let him dash when he leaped out of their arms. It was sad to bring my most kitten-loving friends over to my house only to have him bolt in abject fear the minute I handed him over. The whole process only made him more fearful not less.
Anna says I should relax and let him be himself.
See what I mean? If anyone could get my little munchkin to relax it's Anna. She understands the introverted and the need for the solace of a quiet house. I just know Blitz would love Anna if he just tried.
There I go, an extrovert trying yet again to get an introvert to change. Blitz is not going to change. My friends are never going to see Blitz's charm as he talks to me in the morning. They are never going to see how funny he is when I pick him up and he uses his front paws to walk up the side of the washing machine. They are never going to decipher his Morse code dashes and dots as he rolls onto his back to get his belly rubbed. They are never going to see how he leaps up and tags Teddy on the shoulder when he wants to start a game. My friends are never going to know my little Blitzen.
The worst part is that if there really is a fire, if the house is burning down and a fireman comes in to rescue the kitten, you know, the hero of the story who gets to be on the cover of Time in his uniform with a kitten in his arms... If the hero comes into my house to save the day?
Blitz is totally going to die.
Thank you for listening, jb
No comments:
Post a Comment