An open letter to the city of Palo Alto

Dear Sirs or Madams,

This weekend was the annual May Fete Parade, a parade which, as far as I can tell, is an opportunity for parents to show the world that they have children who can ride scooters and wear costumes. I am still trying to determine what exactly this has to do with May. While I appreciate that parents in Palo Alto need every excuse to flaunt their children in everyone's face, I do not appreciate, dear sirs and madams, the assumption that I would want to have such an event pass directly by my window. Or that I would happily move my car for such an event to occur. Or that my own children, who happen to be of the furry variety, would somehow enjoy this event.

Quite the opposite is, in fact, true. My little ones reacted to the marching bands as though suffering from some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. It was as if their little cat eyes were seeing the horrors of 'Nam all over again as they darted around my apartment, seeming both to look for the source of the noise and to hide from it. It broke my heart to see them in such a state of sheer terror at a brass band. Clearly in their previous life before I adopted them, they both endured some kind of horror at the hand of a snare drum and poorly played clarinet.

I will be suing the city for the following damages: my prized collection of Safeway bags that one cat sent into disarray as he tried to hide under the sink; my DSLR, which the other cat knocked to the ground as she found shelter in my closet; two cat carriers the first cat knocked off the top shelf of my closet while trying to find a new hiding place; and, finally, at least a full year of pet therapy.

For shame, Palo Alto. For shame.

Sincerely yours,
The Crazy Cat Lady on Webster (no, the other one)