Why Sometimes I Think it Might Be Better to Live With Other Humans and Not Just Cats

On Sunday I woke up and it was snowing like I have never seen before. The flakes were the size of tea cup saucers. I had no idea that it was supposed to snow, and for a brief second I thought it was ash. The thought actually ran through my head that Mt. Rainier had exploded and we were all going to die. I nearly made it to the telephone to call my mom (much like the time a pack of javelinas came up to my apartment window in Tucson...what's she going to do...shoo javelinas through the telephone?). As I was going for the phone, to no doubt panic my mother with volcanic visions, I thought to myself, "hm, it's cold in here. Could those white things falling to the ground, possibly, just maybe, be snow?" Turns out they were. And I could have avoided a few seconds of sheer terror if I only lived with an actually person instead of two cats who find shoelaces and licking their own butts more interesting than extreme meterological events or terrifying (fictional) seismic occcurances.