The storm seems to have blown out of here for now, leaving ragged clouds in a windswept blue sky and an inch and a half of rain in the rain gauge.
It rained so much and so steadily yesterday that the kitties had little to no interest in going outside. They did venture out a couple of times, returning soaking wet with their fur all spiky. Audrey however seems to have perfected the art of being outside in the rain without getting very wet. I doubt if she’ll share her secret with the hellions, though.
The boys found novel ways of entertaining themselves on a rainy day. Clyde climbed up onto the top shelf in the living room, shoving aside the antique stereopticon and the silver (which I see needs polishing) and started clawing at the curtains:
After I removed him, Roscoe picked up the baton in the relay race of naughtiness and kicked it up a notch. He climbed onto the shelf above the couch and into the painting. Yes, into. He is small enough to crouch on the frame from the back. For a heart-stopping moment, I could see the shape of his body against the canvas. I could just picture his little paw smashing through it.
I have to admit I screamed, which had no effect on the little miscreant, and was finally able to retrieve him with no harm done to picture or kitten, though my heart was racing.
Later, when I saw one of them perched on top of the case with the grandfather clock in it, about seven feet off the floor, it didn’t faze me in the slightest.