Cat and mouse with Cindy-Lou

"Cats are intended to teach us that not everything in nature has a function." 

— Garrison Keillor

AUBURN, Maine  — It has been nearly five months since Cindy-Lou left  “The Upside Down” world — our dark, damp cellar — to hang out with the three of us and enjoy the creature comforts of the rest of our home.

For a while there, we thought Cindy would elude us for all eternity by hiding in every orifice in our three-bedroom home.

There were sightings and brief encounters with her, but for a month or, she preferred the “The Upside Down.” During her stay in the cellar, she chalked up three confirmed kills, ripping up three mice and ending our pest problem.

She was moonlighting as a deadly assassin and I applauded her precision in ridding our home of those vile, disgusting rodents. She was like Max von Sydow — who played an unfeeling G. Jourbert — an assassin for the CIA in “Three Days of the Condor.”

Nature gave her killer instincts and we needed to protect our home. She also kills and eats ants and flies when they covertly slip into our home. The insects are like snacks for the cantankerous Cindy.

We were in despair that we might only catch glimpses of a cat, which ate her meals while we slept, but suddenly Cindy came out — just like Boo Radley did in “To Kill a Mockingbird.”  

She, and only she, decided that we were worth her time and love.

She is a fussy dame for a five-year-old cat, but we have learned to live with her endless demands. When she screeches for a treat, her bellowing won’t stop until she is fed. We almost always give into her demands for peace of mind.

Cindy likes to swipe at all of us and I never pet her when she is the floor. She will bait you with those big eyes and then strike with her sharp claws. 

But she is always on the prowl for bugs and mice. The premises are safe under the watchful eyes of Cindy-Lou.

She never stops talking and it is funny when she lets out one of those “HELLO” calls in the hallway. 

We will keep her around because she is good company and we enjoy our fireside chats with a cat that just can’t keep quiet.

That’s because cats always have the final say and owners, deep down, know this autonomous animal calls the shots and has no sense of diplomacy.

NPR’s reporting shines a light in the Upside Down

"Natural disasters are terrifying - that loss of control, this feeling that something is just going to randomly end your life for absolutely no reason is terrifying. But, what scares me is the human reaction to it and how people behave when the rules of civility and society are obliterated." 

— Eli Roth

AUBURN — For two and half days, it felt like we were out of the loop after a nasty Nor’easter sideswiped Maine and left thousands of the state’s denizens groping in the dark the past week.

Just before I watched the lights fade from every room (thank you, Moody Blues), the annoying radio alarm sounded revelry at 6 a.m.

I bounded out of bed and told my annoyed wife that we still had power.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Five minutes later, I saw a flash of light outside the bedroom window and watched the radio clock and night light go out.

Silence filled the room. 

The neighborhood went dark and I was drowning in anxiety, not knowing where my next cup of coffee would come from in these perilous and dark times.

We felt like we stumbled upon the portal to the Upside Down. I also realized I didn’t possess No. 11’s power turn the frigging electricity back on. 

“Oh damn it,” I said as I reached for the flashlight. More four-letter words followed when I bumped into objects along the way to a pitch-black kitchen.

Cable and Internet were out of action and a dormant coffee maker denied me my morning jolt of caffeine. 

The power was gone. I was unhappy, cold and the sudden quietness was already getting on my nerves.

My wife and I would snipe at each other by candlelight for the next two days. We hung out anywhere we could to get the Internet. We visited the Lewiston Library and drank coffee at Dunkin just for the WiFi. We were like wandering, energy vampires looking to suck up free Internet on somebody else’s dime.

We weren’t overreacting. News stories were breaking that Mueller and his team of lawyers started making arrests in the Russian controversy. We were gleeful that Mueller’s band of merry men were making headway, but we were still on the sidelines with no TV or Internet. 

That’s when we turned to National Public Radio for our news and a chance to cheer on Mueller for getting to the bottom of this mess that our president appears to ignore.

We commandeered our son’s ancient radio, stuck some batteries in the back and listened to “All Things Considered” and an endless stream of NPR stories about Mueller’s fearless exploits.

NPR was like another flashlight in our dark home.

For 60 hours, I lived in the murkiness of the Upside Down. I missed taking a warm shower and brewing a cup of that black gold that jump-started my mornings.

When the sun rose, I got the camera and took pictures of downed trees and power lines. Auburn was a mess and its inhabitants were in a bad mood.

So we waited impatiently as hoards of linemen descended on the Pine Tree State to help put lights back on in New England.

My tour of our wind-swept state was startling. The telephone pole near the end of my street had snapped in two and wires still were connected to the top half of the pole that was resting in the middle of the street.

Mother Nature had done a number on us.

But there was hope — if you believe in hope. Linemen were working on the broken pole for two days. By Wednesday, they were mounting the relays on the top half, and wouldn’t you know it, the power returned in the morning and all was well in my neighborhood by evening.

The TV and Internet came back to life in our home and there was warm water running in the sink to wash the damn dishes.

We were fortunate. There are still over 5,000 people wandering in the dark in Maine. I am sure the level frustration for those Mainers is in the red. 

For us, life was good again and we were grateful to those men who work with electricity and brave danger to put the state of Maine back on line.

And shout-out to NPR for keeping two people informed after two dark days. And with power on, the portal to Upside Down has been closed — for the moment.