It's a promise!

Dancing Northern Lights

On only one occasion have I seen dancing northern lights. It was many, many years ago in Winnipeg. Awakened by a squeaky bladder in the middle of a cold winter night, I got out of bed and sleepily made my way to the bathroom, not even bothering to put on the light. I just happened to oh so casually glance out the window. Immediately, I was stunned by an amazing light show that was going on. At least a hundred dashes of white light filled the entire night sky. They were springing and leaping all over each other with amazingly speed and dexterity, playfully dancing and cavorting.

At first, I had no idea what I was witnessing. Crazy thoughts ran through my head -- were these UFOs? Was this the Apocalypse? Surely not nuclear war with Russia? (In my defence, I WAS half asleep). Finally, it occurred to me that this must in fact be the rare phenomenon of dancing northern lights. I had heard of them but had never experienced them before.

Seeing those amazing northern lights was like receiving a special blessing. I felt privileged to have witnessed their ancient and sacred magical dance.

[This photo, taken by NASA, shows the aurora borealis hovering above the earth and filling the northern skies.]

Northern Lights

The Edmonton Journal reports that there were spectacular northern lights visible in the Edmonton sky one night last week. (Usually, you see northern lights in the winter but they can actually occur at any time of the year if atmospheric conditions are right). Viewing the aurora borealis is one of the great privileges of living in a northern country. Even though I know there's a rational scientific explanation for them, seeing this incredible natural phenomenon always produces great spiritual awe in me.

Over the years, I've most commonly seen northern lights in the form of great sheets of white light that move slowly and majestically in the dark heavens, fading and growing stronger by turns. On a couple of occasions I've seen huge sheets of green northern lights. I've never seen any other colours, although some people have been so blessed. Nor have I ever been lucky enough to "hear" the northern lights -- apparently, if conditions are sufficiently extreme, you can actually hear the aurora borealis make a tinkling sound as they move about the sky, much like ice cubes clinking together in a glass.

Minty Breath Game: The Sign

When Her Royal Highness has had enough of the Minty Breath Game, she starts to "play the cello." This is The Sign that I am dismissed from the Royal Presence. If I blow minty breath on her after I've been given The Sign, she glares at me with a look on her face that says, "Why are you even still here?"

"Playing the cello" is one of the more delightful euphemisms I've heard for this particular cat activity. I originally read it in Diane DiMassa's subversive series of cult comics called Hothead Paisan, Homicidal Lesbian Terrorist but I don't know whether she is the originator of the phrase. Either way, it's a brilliant image, isn't it? And it has affected how I view a symphony orchestra, too.

Minty Breath Game: The Rules

Her Royal Highness is one of those rare cats who is completely indifferent to catnip. It does absolutely nothing for her. But the smell of mint simply drives her wild! This didn't make any sense to me until I read somewhere that the mint plant is in fact a member of the catnip family.

In order to get her regular fix of mint, HRH created the Minty Breath Game all by herself and patiently trained me to follow its many rules --

1. I must brush my teeth using mint toothpaste only. No other kind will do.

2. When I run the bathroom tap for my final rinse, HRH will indicate whether she wants to play the Minty Breath Game that particular morning by jumping down off her cat tree.

3. She will meow at me as she walks past the bathroom. Her clear meaning is "C'mon, get a move on, let's go!"

4. HRH then jumps up on the bed and waits. The bed must be made and there must be no one and nothing else on it except her. A breach of this rule means No Game.

5. Varying the use of long and short puffs of air, I must blow minty breath in HRH's face and on her fur.

6. HRH will then drool, purr and roll around with delight.

7. I must not touch HRH during the Minty Breath Game because the mint also makes her aggressive and she will bite me. Or claw me. Or both.

8. I must continue blowing minty breath until HRH gives me The Sign that the Minty Breath Game has reached its finale and is now over.

Tomorrow -- HRH teaches me The Sign.

Minty Breath Game: Origins

Once upon a time, many years ago in Winnipeg when both Her Royal Highness and I were much younger, I came home from work one day and discovered her licking my toothbrush which was in a cup on the bathroom counter.

My first thought was, "OMG, how long has this been going on?!?" My second thought was, "Ewwww, did she lick anything else right before licking my toothbrush?!?" After that, I always put my toothbrush and cup safely out of her reach inside the medicine cabinet.

Then HRH started an odd new behaviour. While I was brushing my teeth, she would leap up on the counter and stick her head right in my face for the purpose of sniffing my breath. Eventually I figured out that she was absolutely crazy for the smell of my mint toothpaste. Crazy, yes -- crazy like an addict! She couldn't get enough!

Tomorrow -- HRH invents the Minty Breath Game and trains me in its rules.

A Royal Decree

It has not escaped the attention of Her Royal Highness (who keeps track of such things) that there has been no specific mention of Her Royal Self on this blog since April 7th, well over three months ago. She has instructed me to remedy this oversight immediately.

Therefore, stay tuned for a three-part series on HRH's favourite pastime, viz., the Minty Breath Game.

Tomorrow -- HRH displays some odd behaviour.