Monday, June 19, 2006

Monty meets Bigfoot

My hand's almost back to normal size today.

I spent the weekend with it looking like the hand of a cartoon character who's been hit with hammer. I know that's a cliché, but if I could have managed a picture that wasn't too washed out by the flash I'd show you.

It all started when Monty, our mostly inside cat, decided to grant himself a furlough. He's mostly an inside cat because he goes insane when he's outside. His hair stands on end, his tail becomes a bottle brush and he prances about seemingly saying: "Oh my god! I'm outside. I'm outside. I'm outside." As Christine puts it, outside gets him over stimulated.

Since he's used to having a roof over his head, he usually tries to get under something once he's outside.

This time he chose a sycamore near our fence.

"We need to corral him," Christine said.

About then he found the route under the fence that Oliver The Tunnel King uses, and into the woods he went, where there's a lot of "over his head."

Since I couldn't follow him at his point of departure, I went tearing down to the gate where a family of yellow jackets had moved into the space previously occupied by the wasps who stung me there last fall.

One of them zapped me as I went through. It's the yellow jacket way of saying howdy.

What I learned from the experience: Yellow jacket venom makes my hand swell more than wasp venom.

Ignoring the pain I started a commando raid through thickets to the spot where Monty was hanging out. Since I'm taller than he is I had to chart a wending course around things I couldn't walk under. When I made it to the clearing that would lead to the approximate spot he was sniffing, my presence scared him and he fired himself back under the fence, past Christine and to the back door.

Christine sometimes supplies dialog for Monty, or perhaps she channels his thoughts.

She observed that he must be saying: "Let's get back in the house, Sasquatch is out there!"

That's probably how myths are born. Judging by the sniffing the other cats were certainly impressed by his big adventure.

Far more than my swollen hand.

"That's bad," they seemed to say. "But did you hear Sasquatch almost got Monty?"


Charles Gramlich said...

I got stung above the eye by a yellow jacket once, and it caused both eyes to swell shut and my whole face to look like I was wearing a fat suit on my head. Just remember nature's warning, "Yellow on black, stay the hell back."

Anonymous said...

Christine may well channel his thoughts. I know that ability well, though cannot begin to grasp how it happens or why. I suspect simple empathy with a bit of telepathy thrown in. I knew Dolly's every thought, I swear, and her thoughts were far more deep and sophisticated than many would ever credit.

I think in touching humans, animals link to us and as they are changed by that contact, so are we. x

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