It has finally happened. I knew it was coming. I just didn't think it would come this early. I was not mentally or emotionally prepared for 'Currier and Ives' season. I am speaking, of course, about snow. Yesterday morning I grabbed my first cup of coffee and went out onto the chilly enclosed porch with my entourage of fur-children. I was confused by the amount of time it was taking for my eyes to focus and for the morning fuzzies to dissipate. Then it hit me. They weren't fuzzies they were snowflakes! Big suckers! I had the same 'deer-in-the-headlights' look on my face as the cats did. I was the only one who knew what it was. These felines had never seen snow before. They stared out with wide-eyed wonder at this falling phenomena and simultaneously all four turned to look at me.
It is a supremely sublime experience when a cat looks at you with awe and admiration for what they believe is your doing. Their respect is the ultimate compliment and ego booster for at least the time it takes them to realize you had nothing to do with it. I opened the back door so Jezebel could experience this magical moment first-hand. She stepped onto the wet stuff with a wee bit of trepidation, sniffed the air and the white thingys. Then at least two extra-large flakes landed on her forehead just above her eyes and the spell was broken. She zipped back inside, jumped up onto the table where the other three were waiting for her. There was a short debriefing session and then all eyes were turned accusingly on me. Apparently one of them had read "Call of the Wild" and believed this was some sort of conspiracy to torment and torture them into revealing the secret Feline handshake. Or perhaps it was all part of a nefarious plot to turn them into a cat-sled team. They wanted no part of that--or me at that point. Fortunately, the sound of popping open a cat food can has the effect of amnesia on a cat.
Just the day before yesterday I had worked up a sweat preparing the flower beds for winter. I assume that was my first mistake. Kinda like washing the car before it pours. Yesterday was dark, dreary, and cold. I felt as though I were in a Bronte novel. I swear I could hear wolves out on the timberline. I had a compelling urge to inventory the pantry to assure myself we could survive the deprivations of winter. I hope the cats like cream corn.
Today the sun came up and glinted off the diamond crystals outlining every branch of every tree. I had a feline moment of awe and wonder. It's all beginning to melt away and I'm experiencing separation anxiety. I not only survived my first 'dusting' in 26 years but found myself looking forward to the next one. I know it's coming and this time I'll be ready. In the meantime I'm going down into town to get something to go with the cream corn. And some cat nip. Being harnessed to a sled is going to take some serious inducement.