Tuesday, February 17, 2009

35º and Sunny... and There Was a Cat

I had a great run from the studio yesterday. I didn't have my watch. I usually have a run that feels fast on days I forget my watch, therefor leaving me not so certain that it was as speedy as it felt. Regardless, it felt great.

It was sunny and cold. I saw a few dogs, a cat, a dead animal (less of it and in a different spot from the last time I was on the trail), a man who looked like a cross between Tom Petty and Johnny Cash, and a lone icicle hanging from a tree branch over the trail. Who says the trail is boring?

Funny thing about the cat. My first thought when I see a stray cat is to be wary of it. I believe this unnatural behavior goes back to a bad experience I had as a child getting off the bus one day. It was a warm, fall afternoon and the corn was still up. I was walking down my driveway (which was long) by myself. I may have even been skipping for joy. But then, I heard something in the corn and saw a cat come out.
















It was meowing, loudly... more like a painful yell. I could tell even from it being not very close that it was hurt. I stopped and it started running toward me. But then I got freaked out and didn't want anything to do with it because I thought it was going to attack me. It looked like it had survived a "Will it Blend" Blendtec demo. I just kept walking, trying to ignore it like you do a big, unfriendly dog. It kept coming towards me, and at one point [warning: gross] I noticed I could see the bones in its tail. At this point I lost it and began half running down the driveway while sobbing. I probably thought I was going to die. My mom was standing by the garage and looked at me like I was nuts. I just thought we needed to get into the house as quick as possible before this thing ate us.

So that's my cat story. I think the cat hung out around our back door. When my Dad got home, I believe he took it somewhere and dumped it, because that is what you do in the country. So back on the trail: When I saw this cat, I'm embarrassed to admit I picked up a stick just in case the thing decided to attack.

And I can go camping with no fear of bears.

3 comments:

Butch said...

Wow, I'm impressed. You remember the barn cat with the broken and skinned tail. I figured it got caught in a piece of farm machinery or an automobile fan belt. Cats are that way you know, looking for a warm place at night. Very dangerous habit.

Mom said...

Wow, you really stay traumatized for a long time don't you. I am glad you didn't become a vet.

jamie said...

So that's why you're a dog person :)