Jan 08 2009
Cat-astrophes
Click clickety click click squeeeeak!
I open one eye.
Click clickety click click squeeeak!!
I open both eyes, remove my Marilyn sleep mask, and feel around for my glasses. Looking over at the window, I see June clawing at the glass, behind which Henry sits in oblivious glory on his couch. If you think nails on a blackboard are bad, try claws on glass first thing in the morning. Telling June to knock it off, I put on my amethyst velvet slippers with the embroidered toes and stumble out to the kitchen to make coffee.
On my way through the living room, I can’t help but notice that Audrey is batting away at the metal blinds, making them clang unnecessarily loudly, especially this early in the morning. I pause to pull the blinds up, giving her an unobstructed view and hopefully stopping batting practice. Instead, she reaches up to bat at the folded blinds, which of course have much better resonance.
While the coffee is brewing (hurry up!!), I reach into the refrigerator for the pink Brita water jug, and notice that the package of chicken I left to thaw overnight on top of the refrigerator has been tampered with. On closer inspection, it appeared that the kittens had decided to see if it was thawed yet, and then to do some serious quality control. I had foolishly thought they couldn’t get up there. Sighing, I put the mangled poultry into the refrigerator, which I hope the cats still can’t open.
Once caffeinated, I fed the naughty kittens and went out to the porch to feed Henry.
Henry wasn’t there, but he’d left me a lovely parting gift.
A very mysterious parting gift.
Both his bowls were empty of everything other than strange black dirt. The plastic storage bin where I keep his food was lying empty at the bottom of the stairs, but the lid sat quietly on the porch. Not only was it full of food, it also contained the “I (heart) NY” mug I use to measure the food, lying on its side with food still in it. How he did this is completely beyond me.
Wonder what they have in store for me tomorrow?
One Response to “Cat-astrophes”
I have to say that there never seems to be a dull moment in your home. What a shame that Henry cannot speak your language.
You set the picture so well – I’m right there with you!
jx