Last night I got into bed very early so that today would not be a miserable day of travel AND no sleep. One or the other, not both. And even though it's been getting awfully cool here the past several nights, we left our window slightly open for the fresh air and breeze. Something about burrowing in the coolness is so appealing.
But, as luck would inevitably have it, I could not sleep. Could hear Bud snoring, could hear the soft whisper of a dove going all, SHOVE OVER, I HAVE NO ROOM ON THIS BRANCH AS IT IS, but could not sleep. Then I had to go to the bathroom. Then, I don't know, I started worrying about time and space travel. Okay, no, that last one is a bad attempt at a joke but whatever could creep into my brain did. How does Sarah Palin actually get her hair to stay like that? AND OTHER PRESSING ISSUES.
I think I finally dozed off around ten thirty, maybe closer to eleven and I know you're thinking wow, early to FINALLY doze off but I was trying to circumvent curling into a puddle on the airport floor when they ask me to throw away this teeny, tiny, LITTLE tube of lotion that I spent fifteen dollars on because it could be a I DON'T KNOW, I ACTUALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT COULD BE. And I need sleep to handle those situations. Preferably lots of it.
Okay, wow, I've got to go catch a flight pretty soon and I'm still building up this dumb story.
I am lying in bed, finally asleep when I hear something on our porch. The porch that runs parallel to the windows in our bedroom, the one leading up to our front door. The one someone might use if they intended to do us harm. A noise! A footstep, scratchy noise! I froze and did that little dance between trying to wake Bud, risking alerting the ne'er do wells that we were on to them, or handle it by myself and die. Both equally terrifying. I sat as still as possible while I continued to...monitor the sound. It did not go away and there was no question it was something, something alive, on our porch right outside our window.
On the other hand, I could not fathom what some hardened criminal was doing SCRATCHING around on our porch. Getting nowhere. I began to wonder if I was supposed to poke my head out the window and offer some advice. Hey, psst, when robbing a house, or conducting mayhem, you're supposed to BREAK IN at some point. Be scary. SCARE US. Which led me to believe that hey, maybe it ISN'T something ready to do us great harm.
So I crept out of the bed, steeled my thudding heart (this is actually no amount of exaggeration here) and peeked out of the screen. GIANT ORANGE TABBY CAT TRYING TO EAT OUR GARBAGE. With a lot of determination.