And it begins…
Last night, I received a text from The Boy about Kitten Thunder. They were watching a miller by the front door. I, as it happened, was having an argument with a miller in the garage of my old house. Seems he wanted to be wherever I was sweeping.
Miller season has arrived.
Millers, in case you are unfamiliar, are small brown moths that migrate from somewhere east of here to somewhere west of here in early summer. Then they come back in late summer. At least those who weren’t eaten by cats come back. Miller season for cats is like some-big-dumb-tasty-trophy-animal-that-invites-you-to-shoot-it season for hunters. It is something they look forward to all year.
In fact, Cousin Spade is already looking for millers every time my dad opens the door. They are four hours further west. And these millers are early.
Millers are actually very pretty when you take a close look at them. But they can wear on your patience. For one thing, they are attracted to light. Great because it is easy to attract them for the cats. Not so great because when you go to bed they are attracted to the light on the clock. Imagine the flutter of dusty wings in your face. Imagine the sound of them flittering by in the dark. Imagine a 14 pound cat leaping from the headboard to catch the one that has landed on your chest.
Ssssh, The Boy doesn’t know this is coming.
Last night as I was taking out my contacts, Kittens were Thundering under the bed. They were together. So I thought each was the cause of the other’s Thunder. Then, as I was brushing my teeth I noticed Obi tucking the loose ends of my pillow under.
My brow furrowed. The Boy asked why.
I spit. Then, “I think Obi is shoving a bug under my pillow.”
And indeed he was. It’s going to be a long summer.