Toronto thunder storm

Just the other day, a friend and I were talking about thunderstorms. She loves them, I’m not keen on them. I don’t mind a gentle rolling thunder, but when it comes crashing down with a bang I’m like a dog who flattens its ears and crawls in a corner. Lightning I find entertaining, but at the same time scary, considering the damage it can cause.

Yesterday night, or shall I say yesterday morning, as it happened around 5:00 a.m., Toronto experienced one of its worst thunderstorms: pelting rain, one thunder bolt after another and lightning that set the sky on fire for close to an hour. And what did I do … I slept right through it.
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When asked whether the storm had woken me up, I asked “What storm?” I hadn’t heard or seen a thing.

This was not the first time this happened. Many years ago, while still living in Johannesburg, the city was rocked by a tremendous earthquake. When it hit, the house shuddered on its foundations, chandeliers trembled, and books and ornaments fell off surfaces. Or so I was told. When my friends and neighbors discussed the event the next day, I had nothing to contribute as I never stopped catching zzzzzzzzzs.

I’ve also been known to sleep through a fire alarm. How this is possible is a mystery even to me. The fire alarm in our condo building produces a piercing sound. Every condo is fitted with a unit, with an additional two units in the corridor. It is so loud that I often wonder if it endangers our hearing.

That particular night though I wasn’t bothered at all. When asked later about the alarm, and I stated that I hadn’t heard anything. A building official came to test the alarm to see if it worked. It did indeed. He gave me strange look and commented “You must be a terrific sleeper.”

A terrific sleeper? Not really, in fact I have problems sleeping. Most of the time I only go to bed when I feel dead tired and can hardly keep my eyes open. Once in bed though I’m wide awake. Then I lie there, gazing up at the ceiling, tossing and turning, eventually switching on the light to read a book.

With a book it can go either way. Either the story is boring and after a few pages I feel tired enough to give sleeping another go, or the story is captivating and I keep turning pages.
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Once I’m asleep though everything changes. A proverbial cannon can go off next to me and I won’t stir. 

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The disappearance of Chanel

The weather forecast promises rain and thunderstorms for today. To be on the safe side they neglected to say where exactly. Is this rain to fall in Richmond Hill, in Kitchener, in Waterloo? From the looks of it, we in Toronto are not going to get anything. All I see are clear blue skies with big white puffy clouds here and there. A bit like the sky of ‘The Simpsons’.

To cope with the heat the cats have taken to their own private places to chill. Let’s take Chanel for instance ...

Yesterday morning I did a quick headcount and only counted four out of five cats. Chanel was missing.

I looked in all the usual and unusual places, but there was no sign of her.

“Chanel! Chanel!” I called ... no response.

I looked all over the apartment again. I went from room to room, looking under beds, in cabinets, behind cabinets, in closets, on windowsills ... nothing.

“Chanel!!!” I was getting frantic now.

None of the doors had opened, so she couldn’t have slipped out, but where was she?

I made a third trip around the place, calling as I went along. No response.

Where was that darn cat?!

Then I got an idea ... treats, if I rattled the bag of treats, maybe she would just show up.

Perhaps you’re familiar with the TV commercial for Whiskas treats where a cat comes crashing through walls and doors to get to the treats. Not that I expected such a reaction from Chanel, but if she would just show herself.

I retrieved the bag from the cabinet and rattled it. Charlie, Mickey, Charlotte and Gabriel immediately came running. I rattled the bag again and Charlotte gave one of her throaty meows, looking at me with eyes that said “Well, what are you waiting for?”

As I dished out some treats, there was Chanel, coming to get her share. She just appeared out of nowhere.

“Where have you been?” I asked her. No response of course.

I guess I’ll never know where Chanel had disappeared to. Is it possible that cats can beam up and beam down like Scotty used to do with the crew of 'Star Trek'?