I admit it. Go ahead. Laugh. It’s okay. You won’t be the first nor the last to laugh at the fact that I am afraid of baby cats. I don’t know what the name of the phobia is, but I have it. 
I react to baby cats the way that some people react to a snake or a spider. Oooohhh! Chill to the bone.
I am only afraid of a very few things: among those are mice, rats, and baby cats. I’m not afraid of bugs. . . not even spiders. I’m not all that afraid of snakes either.
So why am I afraid of baby cats? I don’t really know. I do remember the cat my grandmother had named Sam (the Siamese) that would jump on my back. He scared me, but he was a fully grown cat.
I remember a time many, many years ago, when I went shopping at the local Wall’s Outlet Store. I was alone and I was in our maroon Chevrolet. As I got out to enter the store, I noticed a little baby cat on the steps. I slipped back into my car and waited for him to walk away. He went on the south side of the steps and hid under some bushes.
I hurriedly went inside to make my purchases.
After completing my shopping, I approached the exit at the double glass doors only to find the skinny little kitty just outside. I observed him meandering down the south steps. I saw my chance to get out of the building. I quickly opened the door and rushed outside.
I thought I had escaped unscathed only to look down and see the skinny little kitty just beneath me. He looked up at me showing his little milk teeth and said “Meow”. My heart stopped. I had difficulty breathing. Terrified, I ran and jumped on the hood of my car. Hysterically, I began to scream.
The ladies who worked at Wall’s hurriedly came to the door to peer outside and see what was the matter. When they saw me on the hood and the little kitty looking up and meowing at me, they began to giggle—then chuckle—then laugh out loud. I know it looked so odd. . . a little baby cat treeing a grown woman. But, it’s the truth and I can’t help it. Maybe I need therapy.
I react to baby cats the way that some people react to a snake or a spider. Oooohhh! Chill to the bone.
I am only afraid of a very few things: among those are mice, rats, and baby cats. I’m not afraid of bugs. . . not even spiders. I’m not all that afraid of snakes either.
So why am I afraid of baby cats? I don’t really know. I do remember the cat my grandmother had named Sam (the Siamese) that would jump on my back. He scared me, but he was a fully grown cat.
I remember a time many, many years ago, when I went shopping at the local Wall’s Outlet Store. I was alone and I was in our maroon Chevrolet. As I got out to enter the store, I noticed a little baby cat on the steps. I slipped back into my car and waited for him to walk away. He went on the south side of the steps and hid under some bushes.
I hurriedly went inside to make my purchases.
After completing my shopping, I approached the exit at the double glass doors only to find the skinny little kitty just outside. I observed him meandering down the south steps. I saw my chance to get out of the building. I quickly opened the door and rushed outside.
I thought I had escaped unscathed only to look down and see the skinny little kitty just beneath me. He looked up at me showing his little milk teeth and said “Meow”. My heart stopped. I had difficulty breathing. Terrified, I ran and jumped on the hood of my car. Hysterically, I began to scream.
The ladies who worked at Wall’s hurriedly came to the door to peer outside and see what was the matter. When they saw me on the hood and the little kitty looking up and meowing at me, they began to giggle—then chuckle—then laugh out loud. I know it looked so odd. . . a little baby cat treeing a grown woman. But, it’s the truth and I can’t help it. Maybe I need therapy.
1 comment:
Ailurophobia. That's what you've got. That and weirdoism.
I love you!
I am listening to Christmas songs while I am studying. I can't wait for this stuff to be done. Three days!
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