Little cat

I watched my friend in the same position I was in- flat on the couch waiting for a spark of inspiration, or at least a spark of something. An hour, maybe two had passed since we last discussed what should we do today. Mom had already said no to taking the car, which meant the bus would be our only option.

“So, should we go in to town? We could grab some lunch, maybe hit a few of the stores and then go to the bowling alley?” I asked sitting up.

“Sounds like fun.” She agreed. Moving off the couch the two of us begin to get ready to go out. I walk the dog grab my jacket and go outside to meet my friend.

The air was warmer than normal for this early into spring. Seeing as Vermont normally still had snow on the ground until June, the change in temperature was welcomed.

“This hill is going to be the death of us when we walk back later,” my friend complains.

“I know, especially after we get some of those blizzards from the bowling alley. We’re going to be crawling back up.” We both laughed.

“At least mud season isn’t in full swing yet,” she nodded toward the still kind of hard ground. Some of the snow had turned the edges of the road into a mixture of mud and slush. Some leaves were starting to show under the snow piles, moist and decayed from having fallen to ground in fall and waking up in spring after being buried under snow for five months.

“Oh, if that was the case I’d probably have stayed home.” We continued our walk. Almost half way down my road, which was basically a very steep, winding hill, my friend paused. Her face lit up with complete joy as she grabs my arm pointing toward the tall grass on the side of the road. Following her direction, I froze.

“Oh my god! Look at the pretty kitty!” She’s still jumping up and down.

“Um, that,” I pointed in the same direction, “is not a cat”.

“What?” She whipped her head toward me looking at me like I had three heads.

“That’s not a cat.” I repeated calmly, while keeping my eye on the animal.

“What do you mean it’s not a cat? Look at it!” She waved her hand at it more. “It’s small and fluffy, and look at those ears! Those are cat ears.” She rolled her eyes thinking I must’ve been insane not to see what she was seeing.

“It’s a bear, a baby bear.” I shrugged. She looked between me and the bear and back at the bear. Before she yelped in fear. Slowly, she backed away putting me between the bear and her.

“It can eat you!” She screamed running back up the hill. I laughed so hard as I watched her run back up the hill. Where she was on the track team, I was most certainly not. So if mama bear came out it was downhill for me. I started to jog back up after my friend glad to know neither of us were followed by the baby or the mom. Once back in the drive way I called my mom and got permission to use the car to get into town. Meanwhile my friend was standing there, barley out of breath I might add, looking stressed.

“Girl, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have run off. Oh my god what if the bear attacked you, what would I tell your parents! Oh my goodness.”

From then on, we’d joke often about the incident. I’d point at a cat and be like oh look at the pretty bear! It’s always been one of my favorite stories.