Do you hear what I hear?

No, I'm not singing carols early. A few minutes ago, my hubby does the unthinkable and turns off the tv and asks me that very question. I said, what, is it them the voices talkin in your head again? *hee hee* Well, I thought it was really funny, if you must know. However, he did not, and soon I too heard the eerie sounds coming from right outside our chamber door. It weren't a raven that's for sure.

These sounds were low and angry, filled with rage and hate and angst, nothing that you'd think an animal could make. Let me explain that we live in a rural area where we do get visits from various forms of wildlife. Anything and everything has come into our yard, deer, coyote, panthers, possum, armadello, rabbits, squirrels and most recently to my husband's absolute panic, a skunk. But tonight it was something else, according to him. Something evil, heinous and bent on revenge against us for some unknown slight. Perhaps it was even a ghost!
I will admit it sounded horrible, it howled like something that might be undead.

But, if it was a ghost, why did he pick up the bb gun that he'd and my daughter had been playing with earlier? I asked him this and was informed it made him feel better. I myself had picked a vastly superior weapon.. a long handled wooden spoon. Everyone knows this is what you use for ghost busting. *snorts* Thus armed, we crept out onto the porch, amid the growls and howls of the horrid beasties as I could tell it was more than one. Once there, I started bravely down the steps. As I put my foot on the first stair, he decides that whatever it is, is under the porch and stomps his big redneck foot, loudly. I almost fell off the porch! I wish it known that I did not hit my husband with the spoon, however, it was a very near thing. Well, at least not until we got safely back inside.

Oh, what was the animal that made so much noise? It wasn't a ghost, or even a panther or a coyote. It was two cats, only they make angry hissy noises, besides humans that is. They'd decided that the area beneath our porch was hotly contested territory worthy of a test of if not wills, then at least a hissy fit or three. My own cat, who is strictly a house feline, is angry about this fact. Right now he's staring hard out of the screen door adding his own low, angry hisses to the chorus of howls and growls. Every once in a while I hear a meow. Now they meow, if they'd done that before, it could have saved me a trip outdoors in the middle of the night amongst all them skeeters, not to mention scaring a few years off my life. The next time that man hears something he can go outside by himself. Maybe next time, I'll stomp on the porch and make him jump ten feet in the air. I'll still have my spoon, though, don't yall worry.


Stirring Up Trouble On a Saturday Night

Jenna Leigh