The Pied Piper

The coast looks clear

                Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own home, needing to plot elaborate jail breaks just to walk a block to the library or up the hill to church.  Why?  Because apparently I am the pied piper of cats—I open the door and they all tumble out before I even cross the threshold.  This is after carefully checking to be sure no animals are in the area.  It is one of cats’ magical abilities to be able to appear out of thin air the exact moment they are least welcome. 

                Once they are outside I am doomed.   They will follow wherever I lead.  I’ll carry them home and toss them in the front door and by the time I throw the last one in, the other four manage to burst back out like clowns from a car. 

                The darn thing is, when I want them to come to me outside (usually so I can haul them back in) none of them show up.  I call out, “Finny-Toby-Frank-Biff-Jersey!” and get nothing but cricket chirps back.  Silly me, I’ll assume then the coast is clear and make a quick attempt to return a library book, get almost to the book drop, look back, and what do you know?  They are all trotting right behind me.

                The worst is when they follow me to church.  It’s one thing if I’m still on our block, but if they wait until I’ve made the gut-wrenching climb up the hill on the next block, it nearly kills me to haul them back home and make the climb a second (and in one instance, fourth) time.  So when I do finally reach church, I’m not only doubled over panting, but running late as well.  Normally, sneaking in during the procession is barely noticed, but when you are the accompanist, it’s hard to be discreet enough to avoid embarrassment.  Hence, I try to leave for church a good half hour ahead of time.  You never know what it will take to get there.

                In a few weeks the weather will turn cold enough that they’ll want to stay inside and sleep all day.  It will solve my escape problem for the winter, but it makes me a little sad to think I won’t have an entourage wherever I go.