Shades of Gray

It is a gray day.

Everything is gray.

I sit at my window gazing upon my kingdom.

The sky is the color of steel, a light drizzle is falling upon my yard, the sunbeam is nowhere to be found.

Everything seems muted in stillness.

On the whispering breeze, I detect the light scent of the sea that lies a few miles away. The scent embodies the smell of life and death, incredible violence as well as calming tranquility.

I respect that.

I seek to emulate the sea.

First, I must dispel this melancholia.

I go off in search of Ivan. I find him in the two legger's bathroom. He is sleeping in his usual position, flat on his back, forepaws raised above his head, hindpaws crossed, mouth hanging open and emitting a soft snoring that sounds like a jammed paper shredder thingy.

This shows promise.

Ivan is a heavy sleeper. Well, actually, Ivan is heavy in all his endeavors with the obvious exception of thinking. He sleeps heavily, eats heavily and plays heavily. However, I must exercise caution. Though he is deep in sleep, if awakened suddenly, he believes in chomp first, ask questions second and then chomp again.

I decide that speed is my best ally. I am much faster than Ivan. (most rocks are faster than Ivan) I begin my stalk. Walking in a low, stealthy crouch, I approach the bathroom door. Peeking around the corner, I confirm that Ivan remains in peaceful repose.

Spotting Tiger Lily watching me from the bedroom chair, inspiration strikes. I immediately start giggling softly. Curious, Tiger Lily asks, "What's so funny?"

I whisper, "Come check out Ivan, but be quiet, I do not wish to awaken him."

Just as she warily begins to peek around the corner, I make my move. In a single leap, I jump over Tiger Lily and land with all four paws firmly in the middle of Ivan's ample belly. Using my momentum and the natural springiness of Ivan's tummy, I am able continue the bound to the sink thingy thus landing out of sight of the stinky orange beast that I have just summoned from the depths of slumber. The first thing the recently revived ball of anger spots is Tiger Lily standing the doorway with a look of utter shock on her unnaturally large face.

I am unsure what happened next. Laying low in the sink thingy in the grip of a fit of uncontrollable giggling, I recall only the sound of hissing, whining, snarling and mrowwing.  Having gotten a grip on myself, I peaked over the edge of the sink only to behold the light drizzle of gray fur settling softly to the bathroom floor.

Though the day is grayer than ever, I find myself no longer melancholy.