Suzy Says

Oh, those kitties!

The other evening, I saw Audrey trotting toward the open sliding glass doors with something in her mouth. I hastened to close the doors before she came inside with whatever it was – I have a firmly closed door policy on things like that – but she got in before I could stop her.

She had a snake in her mouth.

She tripped lightly up the stairs to the sleeping loft. I followed, and the snake was in a heap near my lovely floor lamp. I went to get the broom and dustpan to remove the unwelcome visitor, but by the time I came back, it was gone.

Audrey was sitting on the bed as if nothing had happened, having a bath with her snake breath. I looked cautiously around, but couldn’t find it.

This did not make for a peaceful evening, though I tried to lose myself in the complex Awake and not think about waking up with a snake on the bed. Or stepping on it when I got up, as I always do a few times a night.

Around 1:00 am, I got up and saw the snake in a pool of light by the front door (I have a little nightlight down there to light my way down the stairs and try and avoid further Calamity Suzy episodes while not making it too bright to sleep). I still had the broom and dustpan upstairs, just in case, so I advanced armed to meet the enemy.

Unfortunately, snakes are somewhat resistant to being collected into dustpans. Somehow I hadn’t known before that they can sort of slither sideways, which is what it did. I opened the door and swept it out into the darkness. Fortunately the cats were all napping and didn’t follow the reptilian terror into the outer darkness.

Let’s hope that Audrey doesn’t take up snake collecting in the way Roscoe collects lizards. And I’m glad that Clyde has yet to find a reptilian hobby.

The following morning, I thought I’d let the cats out at 6 and go back to sleep, leaving the glass doors open. I thought the cats could go in and out and leave the unpaid and underslept help to try and catch up on her much-needed beauty sleep.

This plan was foiled by Audrey, who came back in through the open living room door and came upstairs to claw at the closed balcony door. And also by Roscoe, who decided to stand on my head, waking me up from a dream with Dad in it, thus depriving me of a little visit with my favorite person in the world. When I heard Clyde messing around on the kitchen counter, I knew I was once again defeated and got up to give them breakfast.

Needless to say, they did not reappear again until dinner time.