I am waiting for Colin. Colin isn’t a man or another cat, he is a tropical storm. If his wind strength increases a slight bit, he will become a full-fledged hurricane. He must be important, as all the weather stations are tracking him, and he is due to pass right over Bermuda. I’ll have to decide if I want to stay indoors.
My house sits on top of a high hill. When I look out of my windows, I can see the waves crashing over the reefs as one long, line of curling, white foam. The water is a milky turquoise; it is quite beautiful, but as Colin gets closer, this water will become ever paler as sand is churned up from the bottom. The rain has started; a gray mist smothers the horizon.
Trees are moving only slightly, so that means the wind is not yet strong. Outside, my hibiscus tree is covered with flowers, but they may not be there in the morning if Colin’s winds increase. I have seen that same tree stripped of every leaf and flower by a hurricane that was one of the strongest to hit the island in a thousand years. His name was Fabian and he struck on Sept. 5, 2003. That was the scariest night of my life. I will tell you about Fabian tomorrow. Or maybe it won’t be tomorrow or the next tomorrow as we might not have electricity. That is what happened in Fabian. We had no electricity for a week. It’s a good thing I like warm cat food. We pulled up water from the tank by lowering a bucket on a rope. Sometimes humans have to work just as hard as cats do to survive. At least, I could lick my fur clean, but what a mess my Mummy and Daddy made of themselves. They worked in mud and water for weeks trying to salvage their business and would come home at night and pour a bucket of cold water over themselves to get clean.
I didn’t mind the darkness and the cold water. But then again, I’m a cat. Cats live through anything. With care, I’ll even live through Colin. I wonder what’s for dinner.
A Mewling Kitten at four months
Feed me, feed me, please.
