Dec 17 2009
Startled
When Henrietta was still living in the backyard in Oakland (I wonder if she still remembers that?), I used to always call out “Goodnight, Henry!” when I closed and locked* the back door for the night. Now I put an old duvet on the couch and make it into a little nest for her at night. She is either:
- Sitting on the couch;
- Sitting on my lap;
- Sitting in front of the heater.
She reminds me of my sister’s late cat Agnes, who used to sit so close to the heater that her fur would singe. She’d have to be moved before she caught on fire. I think Henrietta would climb right into the heater if she could.
When I went up to bed last night, Henrietta was curled into a ball, fast asleep. I always pet her and tell her goodnight, so I did so. I startled her out of her sleep, and she clawed my hand good and hard. I was shocked at first, but then I realized that I had been given a little glimpse into her former life. The only way she could have slept outside, alone and tiny in Oakland, would be to go on the attack if someone or something woke her up.
Needless to say, this morning she wasted no time in climbing onto my lap.
*On the news today, they had a piece on what to do if you lose your keys and lock yourself out of your house. I no longer have to worry about this. My doors don’t lock and the car keys are usually in the ignition.