Of Grasshoppers, Gardening, and Cell Phones

I was out in my garden yesterday, attempting to pull out all the weeds that grew voraciously in the 3 or so weeks that I was gone. My little calico, Cider, enjoys gardening with me, rolling around in the dirt or laying on some weed to protect it against my vicious onslaught (she likes the shade, and my real plants right now are still puny). So that’s what we were doing, I was pulling, she was guarding.

Then my brother called, and we talked for a minute. In that minute, I pulled a weed that had a Biblical-sized grasshopper on it. The grasshopper flew across our lawn, and Cider took off after it. In an amazing show of speed and acrobatics, she jumped up, clasped it between her two paws, and did a somersault hanging on to her prize as she skidded to a stop. Pinning it to the ground, she lifted a paw to check and see what it looked like…and didn’t see anything at all.

At this point my phone, or my brother’s phone cut out – and the call dropped. Cider was meowing desperately trying to find her prize, so I went over to scare it up. Holding the phone in one hand, I bent over on the grass searching for this grasshopper, and didn’t see it. I bent lower, the phone dangled, forgotten, between Cider and I as we scrutinized the grass. I timidly brushed my hand over the lawn, not wanting to touch the monstrous grasshopper…but where did it go?

It was during this tense moment that my brother decided to call back.

My phone was on the ‘Wake the Neighbors’ setting (I had just been out on my bike), and the cacophony of noise that ensued as we were looking for Monstrous Grasshopper was enough to make me jump and drop the phone, Cider poofed out to 3 times her normal size in an attempt to scare off our Thunderous Attacker, and Grasshopper decided to make an appearance at that moment leaping out at me from under cover of long grass.

I’ve never had that much adrenaline run through my veins before. It’s a wonder my heart didn’t stop.

At moments like that – you (and your embarrassed cat) are grateful there was no one there to see you be a complete ninny….and then wishing that perhaps someone had…you blog about it.