I’ve become a window watcher. I’m one of those folks who stares out the front window of my home each day just to see what is going on in my neighborhood.
Isn’t there a Hitchcock movie about this?
My home office is set up in front of the two large windows in the living room. When I’m seated at my desk, I can glance out the window and see what’s going on. My window watching habit started off with the right intentions. You see, I have an old cat. She is 100 percent deaf. Can’t hear a dang thing! Zilch!
Her name is Priscilla. But I call her Prissy (because she is). She is a polydactyl, which is a fancy way of saying she is a Hemingway cat, which is a fancy way of saying she has extra toes on her two front paws. In fact, her two front paws look like boxing gloves!
Prissy has done well in settling into her new surroundings since the move. But she has always like being outside throughout the day. Mostly just watching the birds and sleeping under the covered driveway or shade tree. At our previous home in Allenhurst, I didn’t worry about her being outside all day while I was at work. That home was in a cul-de-sac so most of the cars going into and out of the area were the folks who lived there. Also no one sped through there, folks were mellow. She typically stayed in the yard anyways.
Our current home is somewhat tucked away from the main thoroughfare but the street in front of my house is highly traveled by the folks who work at the sawmill at the end of the road. It is also a popular hangout spot for the local police. They tend to park at the dead end by the sawmill to get caught up on their reports and what not.
I like that we have a lot of police patrolling our area, but when they get a call, they turn on those lights and hit the accelerator like the start of a NASCAR race.
WOOSH! First patrol car rushes by lights flashing! WOOSH another and then WOOSH another!
So, my voyeurism started because I was afraid that my old deaf cat, Prissy, would walk out to the street and not hear the cars whizzing down the road. I love Prissy, I don’t want her to get hurt.
I can sit at my desk, work and periodically glance out the window. On occasion Prissy will start walking toward the road. Most times she likes to just sit on the concrete wall by the front steps. So, when I see her in my view, I watch. The minute I see Prissy step one polydactyl paw on the pavement, I jump out of my seat and run outside to get her.
Remember she can’t hear me coming, so when I approach her I walk around her so she can see me. I then pick her up and cuddle her, take her back up the driveway and pet her until she settles back down for yet another nap. I hate to approach her from behind and grab her because that startles her and she lets out a LOUD MEOW (And I mean LOUD because she can’t hear just how LOUD she meows when she is startled).
But lately I’ve been looking out the window to see how my mini garden is growing. Or watching my neighbors walk their dog. Looking out the window is becoming an obsession.
“Hey Mom, looks like the neighbor got a new brown puppy. Didn’t they have a white puppy two weeks ago? What happened to that one?”
“Hey, Mom, who is that with the brand-new Camaro across the street? Is that the same boyfriend? If so, wasn’t he driving an old white Chevy last week? What does he do for a living that he can afford a new Camaro?”
“Hey Mom, looks like the neighbors traded the brown puppy for two small cute little bunnies. Are they trying to compete with me to see who has more pets?”
My brother lives across the street. From my view I can see most of his backyard. When my sister-in-law lets their dogs out, I can watch them frolic and play. But his backyard can also be a distraction.
“Mom, who are those people in Frank’s pool? Do you know them? Are those the grand kids? How did they get that big already?”
“Looks like Turbo chased another squirrel up the apple tree, the dogs are going nuts over there.”
“There’s a delivery truck at Frank’s house, did he buy a new fridge?”
And last week things got really interesting.
“Holy poop! Mom LOOK the house across the road from Frank’s house IS ON FIRE!”
A few days later it was, “Mom, LOOK the storm caused Frank’s tree to split in half and knock down two power poles and ripped the wires away from his house!”
I may need a cure for this new (habit) obsession, or maybe call myself the new neighborhood watch Captain and call it a day.
Patty Leon, Senior Editor