A Halloween fright

This morning, I went to take Duffy out for a walk.

He paused on the threshold of the front door.  Looking down, I tugged at his leash, stepped out ahead of him to set a good example, and then slowly began to close the door, easing him forward.  All the time, I was watching him and talking to him, encouraging him.  Finally he hopped forward.  I finished closing the door and glanced up, only to see a gigantic cat, curled forebodingly in the nearest porch chair.

It was a huge cat with gray stripes, massive back legs, and a long, long tail.  Startled and shocked, I gasped and began screaming.  The cat did not move.  I gripped Duffy's leash and ran, dragging him across the street, screaming all the way.  On the far side of the street, I was able to gather myself and do a deep breathing exercise while I surveyed my situation.  The cat remained contentedly curled up in the chair, thwarting me from any hope of re-entering my home.

Shawn was upstairs in his study, holding an online meeting with a group of people who were assembled in Nevada.  He'd been preparing for this meeting for days, possibly weeks.  Even if he heard me scream, I didn't know if he could break away.

There I stood, in the street, chilly and windblown, shaking, grasping the leash at whose end was my tiny, four-pound puppy, wondering if the twenty-pound cat on my porch was ever going to be finished with her nap in my chair.

Then, like a hero, or an angel from heaven, Shawn opened the door and called out, "Just a minute!"  A few moments later, he appeared with a clear spray bottle, which he sprayed in the cat's face.  The cat rose from its lounge and dashed off, towards me actually, but I ran in a circle down the street and back towards my house.

Yes, it is Halloween.

If this post does not make sense to you, you can read about my cat phobia here.