Friday, August 7, 2009

The Moan Ranger

I was reading in my bedroom a little while ago, enjoying my book and the slight breeze that was wafting in through the open window. It's around 10:30, on a warm, humid night, and all is quiet.

Except for the ungodly noises coming from the back door. Apparently, the tormented souls of all the undead are howling for the merest smidgen of consolation from their unending anguish. Either that, or Toby has realized that there is another cat in the entire universe, and it is right in our breezeway.

Seems it is the latter.

When I came out of my room to investigate, I discoverd Toby at the screen door, all puffed up and spikey and large, moaning and yowling in the most gut-busting manner imaginable. He would let out a long, emotional, apocolyptic grievance, and then the other cat would answer with the same deep-from-the-gut, disturbing carry-on, and then Toby would start up again. It sounded as though the two of them had some bitter, mulit-generational feud going on that would never, ever be resolved without the spilling of blood and the forced marriage of teenagers.

I let it go on for a little while, mostly because the two of them were so wholly absorbed in the discourse, but also because it sounded so hilarious that I was getting quite a kick out of it. The two of them sounded like the most demented Gregorian chant ever performed. I was laughing so hard.

Finally, I got Toby's attention (and he was all "God, I didn't see you there....did you hear that? Because I really didn't think anyone was around. I'm going to leave now.") and closed the door.

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