Monsoons and MRE's

You have got to be kidding me!

Its oh-dark hundred hours, venturing outside in this weather is more terrifying than facing a squad of pain-stick wielding Jaffa, and there is Isis sitting under the old elm in the yard eyeballing me. Daring me to come out and rescue her.

No way in hell.

Let me explain how this evening played out.

Said kitty meowed until my ears bled, while simultaneously using my legs as an obstacle course, ducking and weaving her way through them until I tripped and fell on my butt. She vamoosed, I yelled not so politely after her, Daniel cried (because I was yelling), and my quiet night of hockey and pie turned into placating Daniel by looking for Mikta time.

I found her squished up against the living-room glass doors, looking pathetically brow beaten and scared witless, so I took pity and let her out.

"Buh-bye, 'sis," Daniel called after her, finger wiggling his farewell. Seeing the kid so pleased at finding his cat, I held off on the boot-plant I was going to use to aid her momentum out the door.

Then it started raining, a drizzle at first, more like a few spots here and there. Daniel toddled over to the window and called out for Isis. She instantly came running with a snack-time lizard in her mouth, looking very pleased with herself.

Daniel was mortified. Took two half steps back and landed on his butt, and immediately turned over and crawled away as fast as he could.

I scooped him up and closed the curtains, thus putting an end to her show and share session with my kid. Unfortunately, I knew this wouldn't be the last time Isis would indulge us with her culinary skills-catch and release not being part of her game plan. Only last weekend, while out and about in my garden, I uncovered her burial ground-a neat line of dead lizards and rats in various states of decay. I guess I should be thankful she's now decided to bury her once-living MREs, in favor of her past habit of dragging them through the house and into the kitchen, seeking praise (or perhaps tomato ketchup) for being so clever.

And so here we are. Daniel is fast asleep on my lap, thumb resting on his bottom lip, while outside the drizzle has turned into a monsoon and Isis is stuck under the elm tree waiting for a rescue.

Lucky for her, tomorrow's weather forecast is for clear skies.

The End