And speaking of cats, most nights they only bother me a few times (per cat that is, and since there are 6…well you do the math), but last night I was apparently blocking the main thoroughfare in a highly traveled part of catworld. Not only did they run across me every few minutes, but they also did things like drop their fetching balls (do NOT take that in a naughty way) and cat-nip filled whales on top of me. They also attacked my appendages every time I so much as twitched. Oh the joys of being owned by a herd (Gaggle? Flock? Troupe?) of cats.
There were also mysteries afoot in the house of cats. This morning as I staggered to the kitchen for coffee, I noticed that the cat condo was tipped over. Nothing new there and I vowed to return it to its upright position when I had taken care of my first-thing-in-the-morning chores (i.e. turn on the computer, log in to my work and Google email, and look at the newspaper online). Usually this part of my morning is interrupted at least a dozen times by W Kitty, aka Orange Belly. She brings her fetching balls (ok, go ahead and laugh) to me and then digs her darling claws into my leg. I throw the ball, she brings it back, I throw the ball, she drops it and comes back empty mouthed expecting me to produce a ball out of thin air (which I am able to do because I keep a couple of spares on the computer desk).
This morning, no W Kitty. No claws digging into my thigh. No constant “Meowrrrrr”. My sleep-deprived brain vaguely registered this fact, assumed that she was still sleeping and went on to answer emails and drink stout coffee. I looked around the room and noticed that Mini Cat was staring intently at the cat condo, which was still lying on the floor. Thinking that she probably wanted to sit on it and look outside, I walked over, reached down and started to lift. Then I saw it…a little cat face peering out of the side of the condo. W Kitty jumped out, looked at me as if to say “what took you so frigging long” and then went to find one of her fetching balls.
She was obviously traumatized by the event.
Such is life in the cathouse.