Cooped Up

We take a trip to the pet store, just for fun. We push down the aisles and look at the fish, then the birds, then the cats. Henry smashes his face against the glass, calls to them, "Kitties!" They are all old, sleeping, waiting to be adopted. I push the cart on and Henry protests, "Kitties, come." I wonder where we would put another cat. I wonder where we would put another baby.

I think about a show I watched the other night on television - experts weighed in on what the world would look like if humans suddenly disappeared. They report that house pets would become feral, and I think about my cats and dog, trapped in the house, their humans having disappeared. I remind myself to leave the front door open for them if I start to disappear.

We've all been trapped inside too much. Winter hangs on. Henry fights us on the mittens and even the monkey hat now. I carry him over snow banks and icy patches and he squirms, complains, "Wan get down!" I can't blame him. We lie in wait for long walks and dinners in the backyard. Spring, come.