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I was sitting at the computer when this event occured. This event was apparently the funniest thing that has happened all day. I will tell the story, but it is up to you to use your imagination, and fill in what it must have looked like.

Austin and dad are in the family room watching a show on the history channel. I hear my dad say that Boots wants to come in now, and I look over to see him OUTSIDE! I watch as Austin gets up, makes his way over to the door and opens it. Boots immediately senses the inclusion he is about to partake in, and runs the opposite way. He then tells me to “Get my cat”. I get up and go over to the door. I open it and step outside. My sweet little kitty is stretching out in the sun, rolling over back and forth, obviously having the time of his life. But this does not last long, for when he sees me, he turns from “sweet kitty” into “I must escape Cruela D’vil for she will turn me into a coat! kitty”. But before he leaps to his feet, I see it in his eyes that it will be a game. He knows this, he is toying with me, he will make me run back and forth across the backyard, and he will take much pleasure in witnessing this. Before I have a chance to give him my “Bring It!” look, he is up and sprinting across the grass towards the shed. Since I have now been silently challenged to a game of cat of mouse (literally), I decide to show this creature why the human race is far superior to the animal race. He may be smart and quick, but I am smart, quick and 12 times his size! He is now in the shed, using his much smaller body against me, he has crouched behind the massive “necessary yard equipment” (according to my dad). I then use my little brothers “necessary game equipment”, in this case being a hockey stick, to prod him out of his hiding place. Once again he is sprinting across the grass, with me in hot pursuit. As we round the pool for the third time I notice a couple of things: 1) I miss playing softball (rounding the pool is a little like the rounding the bases, except in “the game” we are playing, the goal is to get the cat home, and in softball your goal is only to get home). 2) I am really out of shape. 3) Realizing how out of shape of am has made me think that I will not catch this cat, which of course only fuels more motivation. And so, I run on. Finally after a couple of laps around the shed, the pool, and the table, the cat is becoming tired. He runs towards the porch and seeks refuge under a chair. Now is the time when I expect him to pull out his boxing gloves (for he has no claws, rather “gloves”), and his fangs. Instead his little kitty eyes look up at me and I watch him transform back into “sweet kitty” right before my eyes. I reach under the chair, pull him out, lift him into my arms, and open the door to come inside. When I step inside I am confused and a little appalled at what I see in front of me. My dad and Austin, who have not moved at all, are laughing so hard at me when I step in, I begin to feel very insecure and a little upset. Austin tells me to sit down on the couch where he finally gets up from. I sit in his spot. He then tells me to stay there and watch, as he demonstrates what he has been watching (out our glass door) for the full 10 minutes that I was outside chasing the cat. I sit and watch, all of the sudden I see him run in a furry across the backyard. Then he runs from that side to the other side. He stops and comes back inside and asks me this: “Now how funny would I look chasing this tiny grey cat all over the yard, when all i can see is you running back and forth, arms outstretched in front of you, attempting to catch up to the feline?” My dad explains that it looked like a movie, or a comedy sketch, happening right in front of their eyes. I then informed them of the most important fact, that I won, and I held my head high as I walked out. They of course, continued to laugh.

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 3rd, 2004 at 4:28 pm and is filed under . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.