Something About Nothing by Julie Seedorf

One of the definitions of paranoid is extreme or irrational fear of others or being suspicious. I have been accused of being paranoid by my spouse. Our conversations go something like this:

Me: Do you see that spot on the ceiling? Is something leaking?

Him: No, it’s fine.

Me: Do you smell that? Do you suppose we have a natural gas leak?

Him: No, it’s fine.

Me: Does that look like a funnel cloud?

Him: No, It’s fine.

Have you ever seen a show with bloopers and practical jokes? One of the jokes has one or two people walking into an elevator and turning to face the back elevator wall. When other people get in the elevator they look at the people facing the back wall strangely, but after a few minutes they too turn and face the wall.

Or …

Have you ever been caught by the sky blooper? A few people stand around and look up in the sky and point to something that isn’t there. Pretty soon a crowd gathers and everyone is looking up into the sky looking for something that was never there. If you haven’t experienced this, try it sometime and see what happens.

I have two cats. Boris is 14 pounds and pretty laid back most of the time. He is a big overgrown baby and is part something, probably alley cat. Natasha is delicate-boned  and part Siamese and something. When she is awake, she is always on the move trying to open my closet doors, my drawers, climbing to see out the windows and getting into whatever mischief she can. She is quiet and sneaky.

The other night was the perfect scenario for my paranoia. My cats possibly have been watching the blooper shows.

As I was enjoying “America’s Got Talent” on television, I noticed that Natasha was sitting still on top of the cat house that my husband built for them. She was staring at my wall. I gave a glance at the wall and could see nothing. Natasha loves bugs, so I thought perhaps she was scoping out a bug victim. I kept glancing over to see what she was doing. Fifteen minutes passed and she was in the same spot, actively staring at the wall, moving her head to occasionally glance up at the ceiling.

I decided I needed to investigate. I walked over and looked intently at the wall. There was nothing there. The fact that the cat wasn’t asking to be petted but still stared intently at the wall made me look even harder. I took my place back on the couch in front of the television. My husband walked into the room. Natasha didn’t acknowledge him, which was strange because he is her favorite person.

“There’s something wrong. Natasha keeps staring at the wall and then up to the ceiling.”

My husband watched for a minute and answered, “She’s just trying to figure out how to climb the radiator pipes up to the ceiling. You’re paranoid.”

He left the room back to his own television spot in the other room.

Soon Boris walks into the room. He joins Natasha and starts staring at the wall intently. Their ears perk up. This lasts for another 10 minutes before I mute the noise on the TV set trying to see if I hear anything, any scratching in the walls that they might be hearing that would indicate a creature in the wall.

All I hear is silence.

They still stare intently at the wall. I walk over next to wall and put my ear up to the wall as they are watching the wall and wait and wait and wait.

There is nothing. There is no sound, there are no bugs. There is just a quiet wall with two cats staring at it and a paranoid owner trying to figure out why my busy cats are staring at my wall.

I walk into the other room, usually my cats follow me. They stay staring at the wall. I ask my husband, “Could we have a mouse or a bat in the wall?”

He gave me the look and said, “It’s fine, they are just being weird.”

I will give him credit, he did walk into the other room and listen and watch for a few seconds. “It’s fine. You are paranoid.”

After about an hour of wall watching, the cats decided to move. This time they walked around the house examining the ceilings of all the other rooms. They kept looking up. I kept looking up expecting to see a bug or a bat. There was nothing there.

“Do you suppose we have spirits visiting us tonight that only the cats can see?”

I received a look that included raised eyebrows from my husband and a laugh, “You’re paranoid.”

Natasha and Boris’ examination of my ceilings lasted about an hour. Finally, they settled down into a deep sleep in their favorite corners.

Am I paranoid? Did they see spirits? Or did they get the idea to spoof their owners after watching a show on bloopers and practical jokes? Only they know, and they’re not telling.

 

Wells resident Julie Seedorf’s column appears every Monday. Send email to her at thecolumn@bevcomm.net. Her Facebook page is www.facebook.com/sprinklednotes.