The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Thursday, May 02, 2002

The One Pounce Rule

I knew I was in trouble the moment my feet left the earth.

I was close. So very close to catching him. I had rounded the corner of the Facility in the Middle of Nowhere in persuit when something happened; the ground dropped out from beneath me, my foot forgot to hit the ground and started flying, something happened and I found my self bereft of ground support.

Things got worse when my face bounced off the ground. Normally people see stars when such a thing happens, but oddly enough, it looked more like lightening before things went black.

Fortunately, I did not go unconscious.

“Oh honey!” said Spring. “What happened? Did you get run over?”

My glasses didn't fit quite right on my face. My eyebrow was bleeding. I had dirt up my nose and down my mouth. My normally khaki pants were well on their way to being black. “No,” I said. “Spodie is outside.” Mr. Spodie O'Dodie being her cat who had slipped his bonds of the outside court yard and was free on the other side of the wall.

“Oh dear,” said Spring. She came over to hug me, dirt and all. “What did you do?”

“I found Spodie outside and I tried catching him. Bastard took off and I was chasing him around the building.”

“You've never lived with cats before. I can tell.”


“Yes. Have you heard of the One Pounce Rule?” she said.

One Pounce Rule?

“Yes. If on the first pounce you don't catch the cat, you might as well give up chasing it.”

One Pounce Rule.


“Now I know.”

Fortunately, my glasses are metal, not plastic and that's probably the only thing that kept them from breaking entirely. I was able to work them more or less back into shape and they seem fine.

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