The scratching noise starts again. Instantly I am on the other side of the hall, as far away from the entrance as I can get. Thanks to my sideways leap, I can see into the room better. When my racing heart slows from a sprint to a more casual speed, I first try to duck down then stand on my toes to see inside. The bed remains in the way. Nothing is moving within my line of sight. As suddenly as the noise started, it stops.
I decide I can’t take it anymore. I have to see if mom is okay. With one mighty leap, I jump up on the bed. A bark across the room causes me to jump again, almost falling backwards off the bed. Sunny, the dog, gets up, barks once more in greeting, then settles down and starts scratching.
“It’s only the dog, not an ugly monster waiting to gobble me up. What a relief!”
Looking at the bed, I see the covers pulled up nice and neat. Mom is not sleeping. Jumping down, I walk to the bathroom. She is not there either.
“She didn’t have to work today, and she would never leave me alone like this during the storm. Where could she be?” A quiver fills my voice. I am afraid more than ever.
Outside, the storm is becoming worse. I hear the howl of the wind as it blows under the front door, growing louder and louder. The rain hitting the glass sounds like rice being thrown as hard as it can. I race down the hall, returning to the living room where I started from. I can’t see out the front windows, they are covered with sheets of wood. I look out the back to see the rain blowing sideways.
“Mom! Mom! Where are you! Why did you leave me?”
As if to answer my calls, a banging noise begins in the area near the kitchen. I watch, and wait, hoping beyond all hope. The door leading to the garage opens then shuts. Mom is standing there as big as life. She turns toward me when she hears me calling.
“Mom! You are here! You didn’t leave me! Oh mom!” I run toward her as fast as my little legs will carry me.
“Silly thing, you didn’t think I would leave you, did you?”
“Mom, I’m so happy to see you.”
She reaches down and picks me up. With one of her wonderful hands, she rubs up and down my fur, “Its okay Cookie, I know it’s scary,” Hugging me close she adds, “but we’ll be just fine. Hurricane Frances will go away soon.”
Feeling safe and content in mom’s arms as she carries me back to the living room, a rumble begins deep in my throat and I begin to purr and purr and purr.
