Since I have been busy preparing “Dark Excursions: second set” for electronic publication, and goofing off on Twitter, I haven’t written anything new. So, for your eyeball and mental enjoyment, here is a classic “tales from the freakboy zone…” that I originally e-mailed to my chosen cohorts back in 2006.
I watch him from across the room as he stretches in preparation. He then easily reaches and carefully grabs what he can. His movements are slow and deliberate. That is how it begins anyway.
A moment soon arrives when his pace quickens. It's as if an auto pilot switch has been flipped in his mind. His motions become borderline violent. His eyes appear wild and without thought.
Suddenly he is finished. He becomes as calm as he was before he started. I sit in awkward silence while he stares upon the aftermath his actions produced...
Several clumps of white hair are strewn about, forming a half-circle around him. He pulled the hair out. Much of it from his legs and some from his lower back. I find some comfort that his behavior is not from a skin irritation.
"Psychological problems," the veterinarian explained. Snowball is going to be 17, so age may be a factor. A change in his environment can also play a part. If the problem worsens, medication is an option.
Thankfully Snowball does not indulge in his hair-pulling process often. For now he will remain our drug-free, sporadically distressed kitty.
P.S. Snowball has since passed away, but he lived a good long life. He became part of my family way back in 1989 when my mom spotted him along a stretch of highway, scared stiff in the middle of the yellow center lane. We stopped, saved his life, and in return he gave us years of crazy joy.