It took a deep breath and a step back for my brain to finally connect the dots. I suddenly pictured my cat from the day before, proudly trotting in after his outdoor adventure, fur full of dry grass, seeds, and tiny plant fragments clinging to him like decorations. I had brushed some of it off, but clearly not all.
That morning, while I was drying my hair, the blast of air from the hairdryer must have sent those brittle pieces flying. Some landed perfectly in the toilet bowl, where the water made them look swollen, pale, and disturbingly alive. The “worms” were nothing more than soaked bits of dry grass. The terror, the frantic searching, the wild theories from friends—all over a cat, a gust of air, and a very ordinary mess that only looked like something monstrous in the harsh light of morning.
