I was sitting in a lawn chair reading Nero Wolfe, and Louie was skulking about my feet. Louis is technically an indoor cat, but as long as someone is keeping an eye on him we let him nose around the back patio.
The sky had been growing increasingly dark, and I felt the first few spatters of rain. “Okay, Louie,” I said scooping him up. “It’s time to go in.” I tossed him through the door and went to fetch the chair. As I returned to the house, Louie dashed between my legs and back outside.
“Louis,” I said in my Ominous Voice. “You know better than that.” By way of response, Louie looked away, flicked his tail in the air defiantly, and went a few feet further out onto the patio. Then he glanced over his shoulder to see what I was going to do.
I opened my mouth; Louie braced himself in anticipation of my holler. But before I could make a sound there was an enormous clap of thunder, the likes of which we rarely get in Seattle.
Louie’s eyes trebled in size, his legs turned into Roadrunner-esque circles of blurry motion, and he reentered the house as if he’d been shot from a cannon.
FINALLY I AM GOING TO GET THE RESPECT I DESERVE AROUND HERE!!