Sunday, March 29, 2015

The Thing That Happened on Friday

You guys. This thing happened on Friday morning. I hesitate telling you this story because I think you might not believe that it's true. But I'm telling you, this story is true. It will seem unlikely that this could happen to anyone and especially that it would happen to me of all people. But this happened. It really truly did happen. And the moment it did, I wished a witness had been there because I knew that nobody would believe me.

It all started when I decided to seize the day. When I went to bed on Thursday I set my alarm for 5:00 AM. I was going to get up and go for a two-hour run because the half Ironman is now five weeks away and OH MY GOSH I'M GOING TO DIE.

I was so proud of myself for setting the alarm for that early and I decided that I would consider it a victory even if I hit snooze for three hours until finally getting up and just going to work. Because sometimes you just have to be proud of yourself for setting goals.

I was laying in bed and having a very difficult time falling asleep. Probably because I couldn't stop thinking about how proud I was of myself for setting my alarm for 5:00 AM. My mind wandered from this to that until eventually it settled on infectious diseases.

I have some kind of condition. I'm sure I do. If I start thinking about infectious diseases, I get light-headed and I faint. The first time this happened was in seventh grade science class when Mr. Landeen was teaching us about the common cold and after five minutes I passed out cold on the floor.

I don't think I'm a hypochondriac. It's not like I think I have the disease. It's just that the thought that disease is spread, generally, gives me panic attacks and I faint. I'm sure there's some kind of pill I'm supposed to be taking for this but I haven't had time to figure out what that pill is because TV and eating.

Sometime around 3:00 AM, although madly attempting to think about anything else, the thought of infectious diseases had me collapsed on the floor.

But the fainting is not the unbelievable story I want to share with you. It's just something that happened leading up to the unbelievable story.

The fainting should have been a good enough excuse for me to skip the 5:00 AM run. But when the alarm went off, I decided that I was determined to do this. Rain or shine. In sickness and in health. Twice up the barrel, once down the side. I was going to make this run happen.

And at 5:11 I was heading out the door.

I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran. Occasionally I passed another person who was also out in the darkness seizing the day. Every time this happened, I said hello to the person but tried to look super casual so it would seem like I was a regular in the morning crowd.

I want to be popular among the early risers. I don't know if they have class elections at the end of the year but I want a good shot at them if they do since I already have a great campaign slogan picked out. ("McCann can do it!" under a picture of me riding a flying Liger).

Finally I got to a park where I saw the oldest man who has ever existed on planet Earth. I know that by international treaty the oldest living person always has to live somewhere in Japan. But I'm telling you. On Friday morning he was slowly shuffling around Sugarhouse Park in Salt Lake City, Utah, wearing a reflective vest and a winter coat.

The winter coat would have definitely been unnecessary for most anyone else in the world. But this man is the oldest living person on the planet so he can totally wear a winter coat in 65 degree weather if he wants.

But seeing the oldest man in the world is also not the unbelievable story I wanted to tell you.

I'm sorry. I keep telling you things that are mostly irrelevant to the story I alluded to at the beginning. Fine. I'll get there.

Shortly after I left the park, I started running down a quiet street in a sleepy neighborhood. There was not a soul in sight. White blossoms from the beautiful trees lining the road were softly falling, like fresh fragrant snow that can't melt. Adorable hundred-year-old bungalows, nestled in the soil on which they stood, peacefully hummed decades of stories of horse-drawn wagons and playing children and generations of progress. It was serene. It was peaceful. It was awe-inspiring. I was consumed by the history of my city and the culture of its present. My mind was clear. The whistle of the wind churned and soothed the epiphanies consuming my Friday morning run. Everything was right.

Until.

I saw it out of the corner of my eye. An animal. It was running directly at me. I thought it must be a dog. I suddenly worried that it might be rabid. That it was looking to attack me. I had flashbacks to all of the times the stray dogs chased me down on the street of Palau. (The singular form of the word "street" in that sentence was intentional, by the way).

I quickly picked up my pace, looking to my left to get a better view of this dog. And then I realized it was not a dog.

You guys. I know you aren't going to believe me when I tell you these next parts. But this really is true.

It was not a dog. It was a black cat. And it was sprinting directly at me. Staring me down with the look of pure evil in its eyes.

I had never seen a cat run at a person before. This seemed unreal to me. I knew something must be wrong. I quickly assumed that once it got close, it would turn and scat.

But it did not.

It caught up to me and began running behind me. The same way all of those people ran behind Forest Gump. It followed me. And it followed me for a while.

I was terrified. I didn't know what it wanted. I had never seen a cat behave this way. Every time I sped up, the cat would match my new speed. Sharp turns did nothing to throw it off. Loud noises wouldn't deter it. It seemed there was nothing I could do to get rid of it.

It reminded me a lot of a terrible relationship I had once.

And then, finally, after several minutes, it made its move.

The cat's movements were so quiet that I wasn't able to anticipate what it did.

I have a small pocket on the back of the running shorts I was wearing. Inside that pocket I had a little baggy of gummy candies. I forgot that they were in there. I had packed them so I could have a mid-run snack. A snack break that hadn't yet happened.

Somehow the cat must have known about the candy. And the cat must have a sweet tooth. Because this feline leapt into the air, dug its infinite number of claws into my butt (NOT THAT WE KNOW WHAT THAT IS CATHIE!), and sunk its teeth through the shorts and into the baggy.

This felt like it couldn't be reality. It couldn't be real. I kept running down the street, with a cat latched onto my butt, feeding off of the candy I had packed in my shorts.

And that was a really weird sentence to type.

I tried shaking it off, Taylor Swift style. But it was holding on tight. I jumped up and down, screaming. The cat rode me like I was a bull at a rodeo. It didn't want to release.

I had a sudden flashback to The Princess Bride when Wesley or whatever his name is was on Andre the Giant's back and Andre starts smashing him against walls to get him to release. I spotted the nearest hard surface and made a plan. I started running toward a fence. But before the plan could come to fruition, the cat released on its own accord.

It dropped to the ground. I looked at it. It looked at me. Two creatures up early, both attempting to seize the day in different ways. We communicated with our eyes. I told the cat that I didn't like it. The cat told me that the feelings were mutual. We both had to admit the other was having a pretty good hair day, though.

And then it turned and walked away. I watched it as it did, still trying to figure out what kind of a creature this was.

And I swear to you. I'm not making this up. After it got about 20 feet from me, it cranked its head, looked over its shoulder, and stared me down. It freaking stared me down. It had attitude. This cat had some serious attitude. It looked at me for about 10 seconds, and then without warning, it sprinted into the bushes, undoubtedly to await its next victim.

You guys. Sometimes I think Harry Potter might be real life.

~It Just Gets Stranger

36 comments:

  1. I have a 17 pound black cat named Thirteen. I call him Teena. Because of this my parents cannot be convinced he's not a girl. Anyway, Teena is obsessed with catnip. I have to go to extreme lengths to store it in the house because he can smell it and will stop at nothing to get it. I had it stored in a plastic baggie inside a glad ware plastic container inside a metal cabinet (with handles). He somehow got the metal cabinet open, got the glad ware plastic container open, and chewed through the baggie to get the catnip. I stopped buying catnip after that, he was clearly an addict.

    I rescued Teena from the local county pound. He has knee problems so he can't go outside because he can't run fast enough to escape from predators. He walks noticeably slow and awkward. Keep that in mind as I tell this story. One night, I came home alone late at night. After a few minutes inside the house, a bat suddenly flew down from the top floor and started dive bombing my head. I screamed and ran around the house, trying to get away from it. It chased me. Finally, I ran into the bathroom and as I started to close the door (to hide in there indefinitely), I saw the bat fly in the opposite direction and into the other room. Teena, suddenly appeared, glanced in the direction that the bat had flown and started his slow, awkward, horror-movie killer walk toward where the bat had gone. Halfway across the room, he turned, glanced at me, and gave me a cocky, "I got this" look. I closed the bathroom door and called my Mom. As I cried on the phone, I heard the hideous electronic science fiction movie sound a bat makes when it's being eaten alive by a cat. Teena killed the bat. The bat tested positive for rabies. I had to get rabies shots and Teena had to be quarantined for 6 months.

    The moral of my two stories is, cats are have a crazy sense of smell but they also SAVE LIVES!

    Reconsider your feelings about cats, Eli.

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    1. Hahahahahahahahahaha!!! This is my new all-time favorite comment on Stranger. I wish you could have seen how hard I just laughed at that. Bravo. Someone get Angela a Snuggie

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    2. I have four cats who live at my house even though I only actually have two cats (another story). Last summer I was lying in my bed, almost asleep when I heard a ruckus in my daughter's room next door. I thought, from the conversation she was having with her brothers that there was a mouse in her room because our cats often bring mice into the house as gifts for us. Then my bedroom door opens and she says "Mummy, there's a dead squirrel under my bed." She wanted me to get up and help her dispose of it. Instead I got up and said to the seven people gathered there (my five plus two of their friends), "I'm opting out of this." My son was all "you can't opt out--you're the mom." But given that three of them were 19 years old, I felt comfortable opting out. So they asked what they should do and I directed them to where they could find a shovel (to scoop it up with) and a garbage bag (to put it in) and some disinfectant (for the room). Then I went back into my room and ignored them while listening to the hilarious goings-on. So. The next day we had some discussions trying to figure out which cat had done this and how she or he had gotten past us from the outside (the window was always conveniently left open so we didn't have to keep opening the door for the cats) to the bedroom, given that we were a houseful of people and the cat would have had to pass right through the main room of our house. I was on the phone telling this story to my friend when THE CAT CAME IN THE WINDOW WITH ANOTHER DEAD SQUIRREL IN HER MOUTH. Right in front of me. I yelled at her and she dropped it on the kitchen floor. And no one else was home. So I couldn't opt out and I had to clean it up myself. Cats may save lives but they take lives too. Beware, Eli, beware!

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    3. Thanks Eli! :)

      It's a good thing there is no feature in the comments to add pictures. Because I have many of Teena. And I'm good at Photoshop.

      Teena says to tell you that your hair looks nice today.

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    4. I have woken up with dead mice no me courtesy of my cats, she brought one in and let it go and the mouse and I had a run in in the bathroom. Terrifying for both of us.

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    5. Lord. Angela and Eli...are you sure you are not related?

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  2. Hahahahahahahahahaha!!! This is my new all-time favorite comment on Stranger. I wish you could have seen how hard I just laughed at that. Bravo. Someone get Angela a Snuggie

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    1. What are the qualifications for all time favorite comment?

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    2. (My comment was supposed to be a reply to Angela's. I guess I don't know how to Internet.)

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    3. Really though, how does one get the award of Eli's all time favorite comment?

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    4. Rabid cats and bats, apparently. :)

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  3. HAHA. Thank you! I actually laughed out loud a few times. I don't do that.

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  4. Eli should have taken the cat home to protect his new shrubs from RABIDS. Cats eat candy? Quit it.

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  5. For some reason I thought this was heading in the direction of Eli seeing a ghost.

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    1. But cats with an attitude and candy addiction are pretty freaky too!

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  6. I believe everything Eli says. Fantastic hair like that don't lie.

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  7. Maybe the cat was sent as your new running coach. Being chased by the spawn of basement cat would certainly up my running game, which isn't hard to do considering I only run when chased.

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  8. Is this cat related to Trixie? Or Leotrix?

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  9. I don't believe a word of this without evidence. Maybe a picture of the claw marks? ;)

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  10. I was somehow hoping Queen of Colors had materialized....

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  11. This cat needs a name - how will Leotrix or Q of C know who to send the invitation to for the next Axis of Evil meeting?

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  13. The cat needs a name! Otherwise - how will Leotrix and Q of C know who to send the invitation to for the next Axis of Evil meeting???

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  14. In your best Jim Gaffigan voice, "Kitty wants some candy."

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  15. This is my all time favorite post. I laughed my butt off. NOT THAT WE KNOW WHAT THAT IS CATHIE

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  16. Oh come on...we all know that cat just wanted a piece...and she got it! Who can really resist the Suzanne Somers/Greg Smithy BUNS OF STEEL Eli is strutting around town.

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  17. So at the Iron Man run like the Candy Cat is after you!

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  18. My cat is too fat to do anything but lay around and bathe herself. This story had me ROTFL!

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  19. Since we are sharing...when I first moved to the big city, my roommate and I got a cat named Oliver. Whenever I would go home for the weekend to visit my family, Oliver would stay behind with the roommate. The second after I left, Oliver would sit outside my closed bedroom door and meow incessantly until my roommate would let him in at which point he would defecate on my bed. Every. Single. Time.
    Moral of the story...cats are evil, spiteful little creatures.

    ~T

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  20. The important thing is that your hair was not harmed in any way!

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  21. Mr. Landeen!? did you attend union middle? or maybe it's the trendy science teacher name.

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  22. Wow! Thank you! I am sure that as I was reading this outside this morning laughing out loud... I was scaring some neighbors.. hopefully their cats!

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  23. This is a terrifying/great story. I'm sure you are aware of this but I feel like it is worth it to remind you that if your skin was scratched by the cat keep an eye out for Cat-Scratch Disease (yes a real thing) http://www.cdc.gov/healthypets/diseases/cat-scratch.html.

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  24. This cat is post-pubescent, Eli. I know 'cause I was just doing my job on the farm as a skinny 7 year old kid, chasing the neighborhood tomcat away from our lady mousers, when that tom turned.

    I stopped. He glared. I stared.

    Suddenly my face was being ripped to shreds and I ran screaming into the house with blood and gore streaming everywhere.

    Seven stitches, bloody carpet, heart attacked mother, and an opthamologist visit later-no, I didn't lose my eye after all-my mom had to explain the birds and the bees and why that cat was so crazy. You innocently blamed this attack on your gummied buttocks, but I know better.

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  25. My dad and brother jog. I do not. Physical exertion is not my thing.

    One morning - before sunrise - my brother was jogging with a headlamp. Because he's a nerd. Near the end of his run, he saw eyes on the path in front of him. He was used to seeing raccoons and opossums and such. Very exhausted, from the running, he half-heartedly clapped his hands and kind of "woofed" at them, in an attempt to scare them off. This did nothing. More clapping, more "woof"ing...nothing. Suddenly he realized they were not, in fact, raccoons OR opossums. They were dogs, on leashes, being walked by their owner.

    My dad was chased by a raccoon once.

    My dad and brother ran INTO each other once. They fell over. They hurt themselves. I still laugh when I think about it.

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    1. Oh, oh, oh - I was once biking with a friend down a paved path. It was night, of course, and we had no lights. We were in South Carolina on vacation and had seen alligators about. Suddenly my friend SCREAMS - top of her lungs, screams. So I, thinking we're about to be eaten by a 'gator, scream. We both almost wreck. Then I see the poor man who had probably soiled himself thanks to two girls coming up behind him silently and proceeding to scream like maniacs.

      Maybe I should get one of those headlamps.

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