Saturday Worm

Arghhhh. The cat has worm breath. Shelby, love her dearly, decided to bring us a worm this morning. I don’t like surprises. Unfortunately, I forgot that it was a gift. I screamed. Scared Dennis. He was doing something delicate in PhotoShop. Then he yelled because I’d scared him. Shelby is just standing there with her tail held high pacing around talking about the whole adventure. The other cats are grouped around watching. I left. I went back to the study and shut the door. I just couldn’t deal with the worm writhing across my carpet. This was a really big worm too. We’re not talking about a panty waisted worm. We’re talking this worm was at least 8 or 9 inches long. Any longer and I’d be inclined to call it a snake.

After awhile Shelby stood outside my closed door talking to me. None of the cats like it when doors are shut in the house. So, after awhile I opened it up. I couldn’t understand what she was talking about, but decided after looking at the floor carefully and not seeing the worm it was okay to venture out into the hallway. I made my way to the front room and didn’t see the worm. I was trying to calculate how long it had been, how big the worm was and where he or she might be by now or where Shelby might have taken it thinking to hide her treasure from bad Mommy and Daddy. My heart sank. I thought I should have just been a grown up when I saw it the first time, picked it up with a Kleenex and taken it outside. No worm. Dennis had his back to me still working at the computer. I didn’t say anything. He said, without turning around from what he was doing, “I took it downstairs.” Ah, big sigh of relief.

Now, the big psychic thing about this whole misadventure? The guides said nothing. Not one peep from the Folk in Spirit who generally have something to say about everything. Not one blessed peep. Thanks. You’re welcome.

Why didn’t you guys say anything? What would what we have to say have any bearing on what was unfolding? This was your lesson, not ours. You are still unsettled by it. Yeah, well, I guess I’ll get over it. Except, I want a cigarette. You don’t smoke, Dear. I know. But, that still doesn’t mean I can’t want one. Petulant. Yeah, that too.