With the freezing temps we’ve endured lately (it’s 17° at this moment), my poor plants haven’t fared well. On the first day of below freezing temps, I wasn’t able to get to my beloved plants in time before they were subjected to the bitter cold.
One particular plant, a pretty palm, is in the worst shape. A few minutes ago, as I went over to water it, I noticed it no longer had any life left. All the fronds hung limp and yellow, and have now dried. I pulled them off and watered it anyway, refusing to believe it’s dead.
Can palms come back from this?
As I pulled away the last of the fronds, The Cat stalked in to supervise my chore.
She apparently didn’t approve.
Unnoticing of my grief over the plant, she walked onto the pile of fronds as I attempted to scoop them up, and sat on top of them.
I pulled the fronds out from under her like a rug. Of course, with her deft balance, she never even slipped. Like the magician’s trick of pulling the tablecloth off a table loaded with delicate china.
Then she had the nerve to glare at me as if I were the one being a jerk.
But then, I thought, Could it be possible that she is actually here showing support? Could I have mistaken her glare for a narrow gaze of sympathy?
To test this possibility, I gently reached out to pet her.
She hoisted to her feet and padded away before my fingers made contact with her fur, without as much as a glance over the massive chip on her shoulder.