Lucky Cat’s Day at Caumsett
“No, it’ll bite you!”
What a thing to say to me while I’m sniffing some small critter on the ground. My person must think I’m slow as a snake! I’m the keenest, fastest, quickest, most agile cat blessed with speed and swiftness that ever strolled across a grassy field or sandy shore. That spider stood no chance—just let me at him, put me down you overgrown oaf of oatmeal breath!
But let me catch you up on how we got here.
My person woke up early today and had his slop for breakfast. I was by the window, napping in the sunlight when he got his black box out and made that sucking sound with his lips. That could only mean one thing—adventure! I dashed to the door, knocking over the table lamp on my way there.
We went out to a place called Caumsett, in the land of Long Island. The day was warm and bright, the air crisp and clear. This trip was unlike most. Instead of wide trails of high speed metallic beasts cutting through forests, our beast led us down a solitary path lined with large human houses and small thickets of forest. I’ll never forget my first view of the water.
We turned a corner which opened up on more water than I had ever seen. Was our beast trying to kill us? We started over the thinnest strip of land. I leaped into my person’s lap, sure I was going to die. The beast abruptly swerved to the left, my person swore, I started meowing, but he managed to rein in the beast, and next time I looked outside, we were again in forest. This Caumsett must be a lake of land in a prairie of sea.
On arrival, I immediately forgot the incident of the water. My person opened the back leg of our beast and I dashed out and jumped upon the nearest fence post. Tall grasses all around, surrounded by forest. The kind of grass I love to hunt in, feeling the senses overload as it brushes my fur—and thick forests where squirrels and chipmunks would be hiding and dying once I was on their scent. I was charmed!
My person took the opportunity to point his black box at me. It made it’s peculiar clicking noise, and then he turned. If only he would have rested there, with those old buildings humans likes to explore so much. I could’ve spent the whole day chasing this and catching that. But he’s my person, and he’s always on the move, so we walked.
Caumsett, as I learned, is a patchwork of meadows and forests, with lots of four-legged beasts. There’s the smaller deer that graze on the grass and undergrowth, and, all penned in towards the center, much larger horses, occasionally carrying a human on their back. It’s filled with birdsong, too, my head couldn’t cease darting around in search of those meals on wings that were in every tree.
There were humans, too, who always smiled when they saw me with my person—humans with that curious habit of running even though they’re neither chasing nor being chased; humans chatting to each other while resting on a bench; humans on those two-wheeled beasts that often make me nervous. In all, walking through Caumsett was like walking through some dream I had always wished was real.
But then we made it to the water.
My friends, I didn’t know that water could be so much! The water piled on itself to form wave shapes that pounded down upon the land of Caumsett. The constant crashing was uncomfortable in my ear and had my fur on edge. I felt numb. I stopped moving. I took up the position of a frightened rabbit, staring at the water from behind some sedges. My person snatched me up and I merely flopped around his monster paw. I wasn’t sure that the ground we stood on wasn’t sinking into that maelstrom.
He set out a soft rug and sat himself down with me upon his lap. still staring at that leviathan. I was perfectly still, measuring the run up of the water with my eyes. Any sudden move towards us and I was poised to flee. My person tried to provoke me with a rub at the base of my tail, I didn’t move. He tried tickling my paws, I paid him no mind. He gave me a gentle push and my tense body returned the favor.
I’m a cat, and honestly, I’m terrified of water, the way it saps the warmth from my body, the way it mats and tangles my fur, the way it makes my lack of size and strength so readily apparent—it’s embarrassing! There’s a reason nothing runs faster than a drenched cat.
After what seemed immeasurable time, I realized the water was retreating. The land of Caumsett was not being swallowed by the water after all. I finally moved out of his lap, maybe there was nothing to be scared of. I stopped watching the ocean, and started paying attention to everything else.
Lucky Cat playing on Pokeweed Berries (Phytolacca americana) 2. A Great Egret (Ardea alba) 3. Semipalmated Plover (Charadrius semipalmatus) 4. Double-crested Cormorants (Phalacrocorax auritus) 5. Devil’s Trumpet (Datura stramonium) 6. Lucky playing beneath some Yellow Nutsedge (Cyperus esculentus)
First of all, there are amazing birds by this ocean, tall birds with long, vicious beaks; small birds that sprint right at the edge of the water and eat the sand; black birds with green eyes that fly low over the water and even swim beneath it. I was tempted to take a chance on one, but that would mean getting near the water, and, no.
Behind us on the dunes, there were these delicious looking purple berries my person kept me from. A plant with a spiky melon that smelled so intoxicating it had me seeing things, and plenty of grasses to chew on.
To my amazement, the water retreated even further. I became bold and decided to risk some wet paws to explore some of the pools left behind at the base of some large boulders. Close to the water, I noticed some unusual critters.
Caumsett Beach at Low Tide 2. Lucky Exploring the tidal flats. 3. Possibly a Skilletfish (Gobiesox strumosus) 4. A Hermit Crab (Family Paguroidea) 5. A Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularius)
There were tiny fish that darted too fast to catch, burrowing under a rock. There were shells that seemed to hold a soft body inside, sticking to the rocks. I’m not sure if they were alive, but they moved. Then there were these six-legged little monsters. These had sharp scissors for paws and their eyes were held up on poles. Some were even wearing those shells from the rocks. Perhaps they ate the soft body inside and stole its shell to boot. Monsters!
Being a bit thirsty, I tried to drink from the pool. I must have misjudged the distance between me and one of them, for it cut me with its scissors!
“Ow!” I screamed. My person ran over, admonishing me to be careful. I held my tongue out, both because of the pain and the salt. Mother of Dogs! My person cuddled me close to his face. The more idiotic I look, the more he loves me. Go figure.
Beach Wolf Spider (Arctosa littoralis)
Finally, it was time to head back home. My person returned to our rug on the sand and made to roll it up. This would have been uneventful, but as he leaned over, a large spider emerged from beneath it, so well hidden in the sand it could’ve have been made from it. Awesome, I thought, I’m hungry! I leaned close to see if it was something that could be eaten when my person yelled what I told you he yelled at the start of all this. The spider scuttled away.
He’s a person, but honestly, he’s a wuss! Spiders scare him. Is it the legs, the fangs, the many eyes? They’re tasty little protein packs as far as I’m concerned, but what do I know? I’m a cat, and I love him for taking me to Caumsett and the sea.
