Grrr...

Tigger is one of the cats in my life. He is orange, overweight, and a bit of a bully. No one loves him but me. He has moments when he looks so innocent, but they occur only when he is fast asleep (note his "Royal Bigness" sleeping on my desk). He is kind of like the heavy-set bully that blusters around the playground, terrorizing the other kids, but is the first one to hide under the covers at the first sign of a thunderstorm. Or so I thought.

Today he decided to sit on the window ledge above my desk and watch the weather. After awhile he began to growl at something, but I ignored him. After a few moments, he growled again, so I got up to look outside to see what he was growling at but found nothing. I resumed my work and then again, he growled. It was at that point that I heard the low, distant rumble of thunder. When the thunder stopped, that darn cat growled again. Thunder rumbled louder, announcing a storm was coming, and again, there was the growling of Tigger. His growl was growing more menacing the louder the thunder sounded.

Then, without warning, there was a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder! Tigger bounded off the ledge as if he had been struck. Papers and books went flying off my desk as he ran down the hall and into the bedroom to hide under the bed. My brave, growly cat was suddenly nothing more than a fraidy cat. But I love him anyway.