Midsummer Madness

The recent heat wave was very stressful. Some say it even unbalanced a few residents. For example:

The heat was stifling and John couldn’t sleep. He was tipped back on his lawn chair on the deck enjoying the few stray breezes and the moonrise over the river. His half-dozen cats were gathered around him in a semi circle, hoping perhaps, he would share a portion of that tall glass of milk he was sucking on.

Suddenly from the outbuildings on the edge of the yard there was an ear-piercing, soul-shattering scream. The semi circle of cats darted for safety under the deck. John took another pull on his glass of milk before deciding to investigate. He slipped off the deck into the moonlit yard.

A shadow darted from the garage, across the lawn, and into the open door of the greenhouse. A bobcat!

That’s when the combination of the full moon, the heat wave, and too many hours shingling roofs in the noon-day sun combined to trigger an episode of at least temporary insanity.

“I’ll fix his little red wagon,” muttered John as he strode to the greenhouse, and picked up the plastic snow shovel standing at the ready for the first blizzard. He stepped inside and firmly closed and latched the greenhouse door behind him.

He peered into the gloom advancing towards the back of the building. Sure enough there it sat hissing and spitting, its eyes two green, glowing, coals.

I’m not sure what was going through John’s mind at that point, but as he took another step forward with his plastic shovel at full-cock evidently some circuits were still shorted-out.

The bobcat was also having second thoughts about pursuing a career in greenhouse husbandry, and wanting to get away from its attacker, leapt straight up and pushing off the end wall, bounced off John’s shoulder all claws raking, searching for traction. A rear paw firmly impaled in John’s flesh, it made one last push and sailed clear through the green house door onto freedom.

The feline frenzy and the pain of the claws, evidently reset John’s brain circuits. His yowl put to shame the initial caterwauling of the bobcat and brought Sweetie on the dead run. Used to John’s misadventures with carpentry tools, she came well prepared with bandages and disinfectant.

No word if the bobcat is fully recovered from its fright.