This happened some years ago after I first came to live with Bob and Sue.
I’d just finished my bath and was relaxing on the desk under the fading light of winter sun….
when I felt a strange tingling in my neck and had the sense I was being watched. I turned around and saw two black eyes peering at me through the window.
I kept my cool but Sue came unglued and began yelling and waving her arms.
“Bob! There’s a raccoon on our roof!”
So there really were raccoons.
The next thing you know Bob’s pumping up the BB gun, running outside and firing away to scare off that old bandit.
But I was left wondering – what else was out there?
You see, up till then I’d been an “indoor cat.” I even hate the name, no offense to the rest of the kingdom. In all my previous lives, I was never allowed to go outside – not even for a short walk in a fenced yard. Never allowed to hunt in the wild like our ancestors did or jump high in the air to catch a winged creature. (Just for play of course.) Instead I had to content myself with the stray spider in the house, the slow moving housefly or worse yet, the taunting of crows and squirrels through the window.
Well, I thought, this raccoon may set back my efforts to ever get outside. Still, I determined to wear them down and day by day, I stood by the door with sad eyes and cried. I made promises to stay inside the fence (uh-huh) and to always come when called. And as the days grew longer and the sun grew brighter and the squirrels began running frantically to and fro, Bob and Sue FINALLY opened the door. And for that I will always be grateful.