Dancer and Me. The cat.
My Dad was ill so Dancer, my sister, and I traveled to California from Nebraska. Dancer was about three years old, a very well behaved and beautiful girl.
The travel was long, the winter days were cold, and the roads were nasty most of the time to say the least. Dancer loved to travel with me and had been as good as she could be for days and days, in and out of motels, up and down mountains, rest stops here and there. My dog was petted and oohed and awwed over by everyone and she was great with everybody.
We’d been in a northern California town near Mt Shasta for several days watching over Dad and hoping that he was going to get better. Instead of getting a motel room, we parked outside the hospital and took turns sleeping in the van. Lots of blankets and a mattress on the floor made it better than winter camping.
One morning in the wee early hours before dawn, Dancer and I woke at the same time to the sound of what I thought at first was a light rain on the roof. Dance was in the sleeping bag with me, I was spooning with my arms around her for the most warmth and we were comfortable. The “rain” sounded as if it was coming in waves, starting at the hood to the back end of the van roof and then back again. Light sounds, soothing sounds. We lifted our heads together and listened. Our heads moved in sync as we listened to the sound of the “rain” moving from front to back and back to front again. Our eyes followed the sound like watching a quiet tennis match. Over and over. It was almost hypnotizing. The sun was coming up and dawn showed yellow and lovely.
When we realized what we’d been listening to, Dancer turned her head back to look at me. We were quiet for a moment, listening some more, and then I laughed out loud. She licked my face. It wasn’t rain at all. It was a cat. It’s footsteps soft and padding. The cat was starting at the hood, jumping up onto the top of the van, walking to the end of the van, turning around, walking to the windshield and sliding down the window to the hood again.
I’ll never forget the look on Dancer’s face just before I hugged her closer. She didn’t bark or move. She lifted an eyebrow and put her head back down beside mine. She gave the cat one ear which moved back and forth as the cat continued it’s game of walk and slide. As simple as that. The cat eventually jumped off and Dancer and I went back to sleep. Darcie
[Dancer is pictured on About Darcie. I miss her very, very much.]
