Maybe it was just the wind. Or a distant siren. I went back to what I was doing. What I was doing was scraping snow from the driveway. Again.
*SCRAPE*SCRAPE*SCRAPE*...
But wait. There it was again. I think?
I stopped to listen.
There was some... thing. Some thing. Something in the garage? Something sick. Or injured. Or both. In the garage.
I went into the garage, and then I heard it more clearly. It was in pain, but there was something else. Something mournful in the sound.
I looked around, but I couldn't see anything different. Where was the thing? What was the thing?
But then it became more clear. And a little weird, a little creepy. It said my name.
"Abbeeee... I'm so sad..."
"Abbeee... I've lost my will to live. I don't have purpose anymore..."
"Abbeee... it hurts. It hurts..."
"Abbee... I miss the old days..."
"Abbee... it's over. It feels like it's all over..."
There was more than one. Two. Maybe even three. I looked in the corner, and there they were. Pathetic creatures. Truly pathetic.
 |
| L to R: Alice, Bella, Good Time Louie |
Oh sheesh. Drama queens I tellya.
.
9 comments:
What drama queens. Given your propensity for the outdoors and running in arctic temperatures, I thought you would have strapped on some ski attachment onto Bella's front and hit the trails like some kind snowbicycle contraption.
Sounds doable. I haven't gotten that desperate. Not yet.
You know you want to get out there and ride. Cute reminder in this post.
Does Good Time Louie know that you're referring to him as a drama "queen"?
Actually, I was glad to hear it was just the whining of the bikes. I was thinking there was an injured cat or other creature in your garage.
Well, yes I do!
Good Time Louie is equally whiney. If the shoe fits...
I feel your pain! And theirs. I think my bike knows it's grounded for a while, but my runnin' shoes are sick of the treadmill. I thought March would be a turning point, but nooo.... instead it's dumping more snow and ice on us than we've had all winter. ugh.
I know you're as anxious to ride as your drama queens are. Hopefully it won't be too much longer!
I'm trying to remain the picture of tolerance, for their sakes. But I may end up curled up in the corner with them.
I have some shooz that I only wear for treading the mill. They're sick of me.
I knew it was your other kids!
Hang in there Alice, Bella, and Louie. Mama's coming back.
Post a Comment