There were more scares for the cats on the evening of Canada Day. Fireworks were set off from the park very near to our house. Usually, I can see them exploding from my windows, but this year I could not. As well, they sounded nearer. Those who shoot them off may have moved them to a different location within the park this time.
In any case, the cats did not know what to make of them. It was perhaps not strange that they reacted differently than during the late thunder- and hailstorms. They were not as afraid of the fireworks as they were of the thunder and hail. Certainly, the man-made noise sounded different, but I would have thought was just as unnerving.
Naturally, Tungsten and Bear-Bear were the least affected, though they seemed interested. Josie was at the window trying to find out where this newest, unknown threat to our home was originating, while Renn alternated between peering out the window in the bedroom and lying on the end of the bed, anxious. That’s an improvement for my brave boy.
Tucker is always an interesting study. He has his hiding spots – the most extreme of which is in the basement, under a library armchair. But when he is unsure of whether to be afraid enough to hide, he waits by the entrance to the corridor that runs behind the sitting room, connecting the parlour to the bedroom. I think this permits him the opportunity to hasten to any safe destination, while giving him views in several directions. My roly poly is not one governed by deep strategic thinking; his call of the wild has long since gone mute. Yet, once in a while, he displays an intuition that would serve him well in nature, for a few seconds, at least.