Lion in wait

I walked into our office here at home to get a screwdriver or something for one of the many little tasks I’ve been doing lately, and as I was passing the door a mountain lion growled in my right ear.

Yes, your hair really does stand on end. Something primitive and scared took over and I literally jumped. Into the air. The lion growled again; a full-throated, rumbling roar from somewhere behind the door, and the ancient thing that now controlled my limbs caused me to (A) search for the safest route out — no way out, the office is at the end of the hallway in our ranch-style house — then (B) duck into the bathroom and search carefully for the source of the growl. It growled again, but fainter. There was a small thud. Wha?

That part of the house has fairly light hollow-core doors. Yesterday I moved some video cables around near the doorway, and one of them had been leaning up against the door. When I entered, it fell, scraping against the door and using the door as a sounding board that amplified the scraping into that really effective and realistic growl.

But it’s amazing what the hind-brain will make you believe. Predators inside the house? Almost plausible, once you get a little adrenaline into your system. Basic reflexes override reason. Add a lot of fatigue and anything is possible.

I should somehow tie this into election year politics but frankly I’m too tired to give the subject any deep thought beyond “small actions [political dirt] against an efficient sounding board [teevee media] combined with fatigue [boredom and ennui] can result in panic reactions and poor decisions.” Well, and that I’m sure if our current candidates were eaten by real mountain lions, few of us would shed any tears.

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