Playoff Hockey and a Nervous Cat

Hockey Cat was nervous.

Cats puke a lot. Anyone who has a cat knows this. At first I thought that maybe her food didn't agree with her, so I tried many different brands and textures, but nothing helped. Even a trip to the animal doc revealed nothing.

"Maybe it's anxiety" the vet said, shaking her head sadly after giving Kiki a thorough looking over.  Apparently, cats feel anxiety just like humans do and, according to the Fresh Step cat litter people, it could be tied to any number of factors including, but not limited to, a litter box full of nuggets. But of course they are going to say that.

"Has there been any change around your house? That can cause problems until they adjust."

"Not really," I replied, "Just the freaking Patriots playing like a pack of sloths. We watch a lot of football. But that can't be it."

"Don't be so sure." The vet replied, "Cats are very perceptive and intuitive and are very tuned into their humans' moods and health status. She could be perceiving your anxiety and disappointment with the Patriots."

I thought for a moment. She did seem to do most of her upchucking while my wife and I were busy bitching about the Pats during games. "Thank goodness for hockey season starting up." I laughed, "The Bruins look to be loaded, so maybe I won't be cleaning up as much puke. I don't know how much more my carpet can take."

She laughed. "Loaded or not, hockey is very intense." For the first time I noticed Bruins' memorabilia "She probably feels the intensity out of you and your wife."

And she was right. I started paying attention to our reaction to situations during games, and realized for the first time that I'm like Happy Gilmore's dad watching hockey, so I get the connection. Problem is, she gets it doubly because my wife is just as intense - she's just more physical about it. You know, throwing shit at the tv, slugging me in the arm, bitching about penalties, etc...

It took me back to mid-January when my wife was going nuts over the Bruins taking their first regulation home loss to the Seattle Kraken. She was frustrated that every time the Bruins tried to clear their zone, a Krakens' player kept the puck in - and if Boston did manage to clear their zone, it was like trying to navigate an astroid belt to get the puck into the Seattle zone. 

I remembered saying at the time to her that I thought the Kraken had just given the rest of the National Hockey League a blueprint for slowing down the Boston Bruins' juggernaut - and the Florida Panthers were apparently paying attention.

Florida's game plan through the first three games of the series has been to throw a hornet's at the Bruins, crowding center ice and not allowing clean entries into their zone - layering their defense as their forwards attack the puck with gusto, causing many turnovers at the blue line and giving themselves prime scoring opportunities with odd-man rushes.

But just like when Boston visited Seattle a month after the Kraken beat them down, the Bruins' countered the aggression of the Panthers by unleashing a brutal physical assault in Game 3 of their first-round series, with Charlie McAvoy setting the tone with a crushing hit along the boards on Florida left wing Eetu Luostatinan only five seconds in.

The Bruins' physicality had the desired effect. The outlet passes became easier. The neutral zone became passible, and the Bruins were suddenly able to hit the blue line with speed.

All of a sudden, Boston built a four-goal lead and coasted, literally, to a 4-2 victory to take a 2-1 lead in the series, the only real glitch to their game was late in the third period when the Bruins seemed to lose their physical edge - by design or default - giving up the two goals and causing the nerves to rise to the surface.

The cat hurled twice in that short span, giving credence to the vet's notion that it was us, my wife and I, that were giving the cat a case of the nerves and the resultant upset stomach - and, sadly for her, we are hopeful that there are many more anxiety producing playoff contests left in the Bruins' future. We'll just keep the paper towels at the ready and a soothing pat on the back once it's all over.

Thank the Hockey Gods for that Love My Carpet stuff.