Today’s truth came to me very early in the day — not long at all after I had woken up.
I do yoga nearly every morning. (I certainly do it every weekday morning.) Usually, Flower — teh kitteh — does yoga with me. Or, at least she thinks she does. She’s nearly always on the floor with me, meowing her good mornings and coming for a snuggle while I’m in pigeon pose. But this morning, Flower was absent. Truthfully, I didn’t realize she was absent until I had finished, and was on the floor, ready to roll up my mat. (I’m not too sharp early in the morning.) I wondered where she was — this was odd.
I fetched a glass of water and then wandered into the bathroom for my shower.
Before I could even turn the light on, I noticed that Flower was on the sink counter, looking toward the mirror. This was a bit unusual. I mean, she has spent time there before, but not usually in the mornings, in the dark, without me around. I wondered how long she had been there. I turned the light on, gave her a scratch and a hello but but she didn’t respond too much. She inched closer to the corner of the counter, toward the mirror, with a low meow. I undressed and hopped in the shower.
While I was in the shower, I could see Flower sitting on the counter. She seemed to settle in there, crouched on all fours, comfortable, like she was waiting. What a strange place for her to hang out in the morning, I thought. I was reminded of my old roommate (and friend)’s cat, Mora, who used to sit in the bathroom sink and watch you while you put on make-up or did your hair. She was hilarious. But Flower has never done that, and it’s just not her style. This was a bit weird.
I finished my shower, and stepped out with a towel wrapped around me. I could see that now Flower was inched quite close to the corner of the counter, where my basket of hair products are pressed up against the corner. She was sniffing at something, trying to figure out how to get back there, at the very back.
I should have known better.
(I mentioned I’m not too sharp in the morning, right? This was well before coffee.)
Now Flower was meowing, and nudging the hair product basket. Without thinking, I pulled the basket away from the corner, wondering what she was getting at. Of course, directly behind it, in the corner, was a cockroach the size of a quarter. It didn’t move. I quickly backed up into the bedroom, aiming to get a shoe. Before I could find a shoe, I looked over my shoulder to see that Flower had now jumped onto the floor and so that must have meant the cockroach had, too. Dammit. WHERE THE HELL WAS IT?
I furiously opened the cabinet under the sink, hoping Flower would sniff her way toward the roach and find it for me. I dumped out everything in the cabinet, into the bathtub, hoping I’d be able to see the roach more clearly. Flower was hovering near me, but not sniffing anywhere toward the cabinet at all. She was meowing.
WHERE THE HELL WAS IT?!?!?!
And that was when I felt Flower’s nose and then paw on my ankle… and then the tickle travelled up my leg and so I looked down and realized THE COCKROACH WAS %$@#@$!!!!-ING CRAWLING UP MY LEG!!!!! WHATTHEFFFFFFFFFFF!
I screamed. Not a bloody murder scream, but a scream nonetheless, and I danced and jumped and tapped/sashayed that stupid roach off my leg as fast as possible.
It fell to the floor. I was still screaming. It moved to the corner, and Flower made sure it stayed there while I got some toilet paper and went in for the kill.
Crunch.
Flushed it down the toilet.
Shuddered.
Took a deep breath.
Got back in the shower. (EEEEEEEEW!) Scrubbed scrubbed scrubbed my legs, arms, everything again. Especially my legs. Especially THAT LEG.
Got out of the shower.
Began the day, 2.0.
Flower non-chalantly went into the bedroom and sprawled herself out on the floor for an early-morning snooze.
Today’s truth is this: Always trust the cat!
