IT’S A DAY OF MUFFLED SOUNDS AND LOTS OF SHOVELING. A day tucked in feeling thankful the wind hasn’t taken out the power (even though it keeps devilishly re-covering walkways as fast as I clean them, invoking its formidable power of drift). It’s a day indoors with Jack the Demon Cat, and it began at 4:30 AM.
Someone, you see–someone who wasn’t a sleepover-type house cat in the nine years since he adopted me, not until this winter–has learned to open the door to the upstairs. Where I sleep. Or try to. And he wanted to go out.
But no, on second thought, maybe not. It’s snowing; can you clear me a path maybe first?
I bundle up; I get my shovel. The path is cleared in the dark, amid swirling wind and snow.
He inspects my work.
No, I think I’ll just wait a little while longer. I can hold it.
But I think I’ll scream pretty much nonstop while I wait.
And then, finally, at first light, out he goes–barreling head-first into a snowbank, completely foregoing the paths I’d shoveled, and digs himself a little snow-cave of a restroom.
And then before I can get my tea, the backyard Buddha starts playing hide-and-go-seek–like the wind and like Jack, he’s a trickster today–and…well, you can just see for yourselves. Where’s Buddha?