Caterwauling (A Pun)

Tonight was pretty intense.

I fought off a home invader.

First, an exposition.

David and Nick are off hunting this weekend. Being the sportsmen that they are, they will sit for several hours in what is essentially a treehouse and wait until a deer goes to eat the food that has been left out for them for several weeks and then shoot them in the heart.

Meanwhile, I am at home alternating between watching college football, arguing on the internet about college football, and playing NCAA football 2009. I might watch a dvd or two. I assume at some point during the weekend I will have a dream that causes me to wallow in self pity for the better part of the day, until I see a dog or have a good cry.

This is a deviation from the topic, but still animal related, so I will proceed.

Ever since leaving home, I have been somewhat lonely, if the 23 pages of self reflection I have produced haven't revealed that fact yet. But the one thing that always cheers me up is seeing a dog.

This clearly has roots going back to infancy.

My first dog was a Boston Terrier named Tibideaux. (My parents lived in Louisiana when they bought her and reflected the geography with her moniker). There are pictures of me in my nascent state (infancy) rolling around on a blanket, with Tibby (her nom de plume) laying beside me.

Tibby was a major source of comfort for the next 6.5 years. She died one day while I was at school and I have very vivid memories of the night before her death, when my parents told me that Tibby was sick and probably wouldn't make it through the night, I read 3 Hank the Cowdog books and cried myself to sleep on the top bunk of my metal bunk bed.

The next morning Tibby was still ok and I said goodbye to her and got on the schoolbus and went to school. My mom was sitting in our old blue lazyboy recliner with Tibby lying with her head in her paws squeezed between my mom's left thigh and the armrest of the chair.

When I got home, Tibby was gone and since all of my experience with death up to this point was how it had been portrayed on Nickelodeon, I assumed that we would bury her in the backyard. But, she had already been cremated. I realize now that up until this minute, in my mind I always imagine Tibby dying in the same place I had left her, my mom sitting in the chair with her lips tightened into a slight sad frown at the corners, her hand ruffling Tibby's ears, but she probably died at the vet.

I wasn't very sad when Tibby died, I don't think I was young enough for it to really affect me yet, but looking back on it now, I imagine it must have been really tough for my parents, they had had Tibby for 6 years before I was born, and she was probably a reminder of those early years of marriage.

6 months or so later, my parents got a new Boston Terrier puppy. She was adorable and it amused me to no end that she was afraid to walk across the tile of our kitchen because it was cold. So I would ferry her back and forth, whether she wanted me to or not.

After about a week of deliberation, we (my parents) decided to name her Piha. They should have named her "Piha, it means freckle in czech" because that is how she is always introduced. My grandparents came from the small Eastern European towns in South Texas, and my Granny speaks Czech, so that's where that came from.

From ages 7-18, Piha has remained a part of my life and continual source of comfort whenever I'm sad. Whenever I was sick or feeling depressed I would force Piha to come and sit on my bed while I moped.

And now, in this awkward transitory stage, without any of those comforts that are so easy to take for granted, dogs are an endless source of joy. Whenever I see people walking them, they make me smile. Once I got to pet a lady's Great Dane and it made me happy for like 2 days.

I get to see Piha every Sunday, so that also makes me happy.

Back to the topic.

I'm home alone, and I hadn't had a cigar in a long time so i figured that I would smoke one tonight in my boredom. I went out to the porch to smoke and brought my computer. A friend invited me to a movie, and we always leave the backdoor open because both our fences are locked, but I forgot that I left the glass door open as well.

I go to the movie. (Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist)(It combined many of my favorite things)(Movies about music, love stories, michael cera, movies set in one 24 hr period). And I return home.

I go into the backyard to get a water bottle, and when I return, who is there to greet me but a large annoying black cat that frequents our porch.

I yelled at him to get outside, but apparently he found my tone rude and ran into the bedroom area.

I didn't know which bedroom he ran into, so thinking quickly, I grabbed Glenn (the roomba) and put him in my room to scare him out.

The cat didn't appear so I checked the other rooms, but he was elusive.

I was worried about him jumping out and scaring me, so I got on Ichat and started a video chat with someone so I wouldn't feel so creeped out.

I proceeded to go around the house poking things with a tennis racquet for 20 minutes.

I eventually heard the dogs next door barking so I can only assume that the cat made an exit.

If you don't hear from me after a while though, it's because the cat was hiding in my room and I died of an allergic reaction.