Yesterday was an odd repeat of my Sunday just two weeks before...I was abandoned by my family once again! We had a big church event last night with a dessert buffet that kept me in the kitchen until 9:30 cleaning up. I had just finished washing the last of the dishes but had yet to put them away, wash the counters, and sweep and mop the floor. Jeff came in and told me we had to leave right then because he and the kids were going to see The Avengers at 10 and we only had the one car between us, so I had to go home with him. I was not impressed with the fact that I'd have to return the next day to finish the kitchen, as my To-Do list was already pretty full. Nor was I thrilled about working hard all afternoon and evening (big dinner at home, dishes, set-up for the event, serving at the event and then clean-up), only to go home to the mess waiting for me at home---unloading my own dishwasher and finishing my laundry that had been bumped out of the washer and onto the floor so the gang could do theirs before returning to school, and then making my bed (Note to self: Don't change the sheets on a Sunday!)! So Jeff dropped me off with a quick, "Thanks for everything, Hon...it was a great event," before he closed the door and headed out to party with Justin and Kate. I kicked off my high-heels and headed upstairs to put my wet load of laundry in the dryer so it could dry while I unloaded the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. I sighed as I remembered a very similar feeling a couple weeks ago. After finishing the dishes, I made myself some popcorn and went upstairs to fold the laundry. I usually fold it in the laundry room, but tonight I folded it in my bedroom because Anna had left all her laundry behind to pick up on Wednesday. I actually like folding clothes...they are warm, clean and fragrant and look so nice when neatly folded and stacked into their tidy piles. The cat came upstairs to keep me company (my only friend) while I folded. It was a beautiful night with a bright full moon and the bedroom window was wide open. Suddenly I heard a shrill series of squeaks and a huge commotion. Something...no, some things....were tearing across my backyard in a frenzy. Then, BANG!, something hit my barbeque hard and was making a commotion in my shrubs. I dropped the shirt I was folding and ran for the window, reaching it at the same time as the cat, who jumped up on the window sill and arched her back, fur raised and body tense. I could see nothing in the inky blackness, but I heard that awful squeal go on and on...it sounded much like a pig! Whatever it was had scaled our fence and was flying across my neighbor's yard. The phrase "bat out of hell" crossed my mind. I couldn't figure out what animal could possibly move that fast, climb that quickly, and make that strange a sound. The neighbor's motion-sensor lights flipped on, but I couldn't see over the fence. That shrill cry continued into the next neighbor's yard and then faded away somewhere deep in the woods. As I leaned a little closer to the screen, my hair brushed against my cat who was perched right next to me. Well, that freaked the living daylights out of her. She jumped straight in the air and came down hissing and batted the sides of my head with a 1-2 punch. She backed herself into the corner of the window and stared me down with wide yellow eyes. Now of course, that freaked the living daylights out of me! But I am proud to say I didn't scream. Rubbing my stinging scalp (very glad she got my head and not my face!), I said, "A little tense, are we, Kitty?" She blinked at me and continued her low, gutteral growl. Running my fingers through my hair in search of blood, I hurried downstairs to get a better view of the backyard and see if anything remained. The yard was totally still in the darkness, except the grilling basket that hangs on the side of our barbeque; it was still swinging back and forth from being hit hard by some furry body. The cat had followed me down, but she had no desire to go outside when I opened the door for her. I closed the door and locked it...not that a wild animal was going to try to open my door, but it just made me feel a little more secure. Back upstairs I finished the laundry while the cat paced, then made up the bed with fresh sheets and climbed in. Kitty was happy about that and jumped up on my bed and curled up tight by my side. We both fell asleep uneventfully and woke up in the morning with nothing to tell except a rather lame story. It sounded so anticlimactical in the bright morning sunshine. I told it three times, to Kate, then Jeff, then Justin and got the same response: "A wild animal that sounded like a pig squealing as it ran through the yard? Wow, sounds like you had an exciting night." I felt slightly deflated.
So that's exactly how I'm ending this story. Abruptly, unresolved, and with no "moral of the story."
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