As I poured myself a fifth cup of coffee and enjoyed the day breaking over the golf course, although the scene was jumping around quite a bit, I observed Nobbs sauntering back to the house. Nobbs has been AWOL for a couple of days, but that's not unusual for him. At least he wasn't dragging some half-eaten animal behind him.
I opened the door. "Well, hello, look what the cat dragged in!"
Nobbs flattened his ears against his head, his sign of affection, zipped inside between me and the door, headed straight for the food bowl and sank his fangs into day-old Cat Chow.
"You're welcome," I said.
Nobbs eats Cat Chow like a steamshovel scooping up coal, and spills about half of it on the floor. A nervous little cat he will glance left and right slinging a Cat Chow nugget with each twitch. After scattering half a bag of Chow between the kitchen and the dining room he proceeded to "groom" himself by pulling out tufts of fur, leaves, twigs, burrs and things that scurry under the furniture.
Once he was settled in I crunched over to him and asked, "So, what brings you to this part of town? Big storm a'comin'?"
No sooner had I needled the cat (my favorite passtime; count the scars) than it got noticeably darker outside. I looked to the north. The sky had turned a blue black. Hmmm, something happening up north. I went upstairs, checked my mail, surffed the news and finally clicked on the weather website just as the first drops hit the roof.
Severe Thunderstorms. Tornado reported north of town. Moving to the southeast at 30 mph.
Tropical downpour, they call it. Raindrops the size of watermelons. If one hits you it will knock you stupid, but I guess if you're standing in a storm like that it's redundant.
By this time Nobbs was asleep on my new charcoal grey coat, twitching and groping after some imagined unfortunate creature. I think I'll join him.