Watching TV late on Sunday night I heard a plane fly overhead, low and long and rumbling. “Odd,” I thought to myself, considering the house is not in any sort of flight path. But it was far too loud and steady to be a truck going by, so I called it a plane and ignored it. A few minutes later I heard another one. “Huh,” I thought to myself (you can see the great depth of my intellectual curiosity, right there).
Then I woke up this morning and read that Melbourne had experienced a small earthquake. “Oh, that makes sense,” I thought to myself … then thought no more about it. I don’t know what it would take to get me really excited: an erupting volcano in the CBD? The Yarra rising and parting in a huge, muddy wave? A plague of locusts? I don’t appear to be that skittish.
Although speaking of, the aircon turned on behind me last night and the cat, who had been hogging the armchair beside me, woke up, flared his ears, then flung himself clear across the room using my leg and his claws as a convenient fulcrum point. And yet he MADE NO NOISE when the plane/earthquake went by. Animals and their secret senses? Not convinced. Maybe my animal is broken.