Bouncing kitties and other phenomena
And now, back to our regular programming...
I wish I could catch them at it. 'Tis the season of flies mysteriously finding the dead centre of a room and orbiting around it. 'Tis therefore the season of cats randomly jumping in the air after said flies. One second they are out of sight behind my easy chair, and the next they're leaping in the air and chattering at the flies. It's adorable and insane at the same time. The other day Emma pulled a moth off the wall at least 5 feet from the floor. Crazy stuff! Of course, the minute I pull out my camera, they turn into writhing exhibitionists on the floor, apparently incapable of supporting their weight on their cute little paws.
I regretted that special leaping ability on Saturday. We lived through quite an adventure. Mr. K. got a Starbucks gift bag stuck around his middle (I guess he tried to crawl through the handle), and took off in a great tear to try to outrun the bag that was chasing him. This spooked Emma, who leaped up onto the windowsill in my bedroom. This window sill sits at least an inch above my head, a leap of 5 and a half feet from the floor. On one side, cozy and safe bedroom. On the other side, a four-storey drop to my neighbour's patio. I pulled Emma down, with my heart in my throat, then managed to corner the black blur and remove the offending bag, and we all sat back and let the adrenaline drain out of us. Enough excitement, already. Leaping should be outlawed.
4 comments:
Oh Monica! Heart in your throat indeed! And perhaps a fly or two. This post made me laugh (until I got to the end) because I could picture things so clearly.
And by the way ... I blinked the other day and as my eyelids smashed the underside of my brow bone I discovered 3, THREE posts here. Three. (all good reads but ... WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?) Ahem.
I've often suspected there was a writing bug in here somewhere. Maybe this recent rash of words is a result of finding a box with some old essays and stories I wrote in middle and high school. Or maybe it's a result of having pent-up words just waiting for the right medium. No guarantees of sense or worthiness, however.
By the way, colleengirl, I hope your brow bone isn't too bruised. I hear a raw steak to the face can help (but I've never understood why...).
Maybe I'll apply the steak after we've finished dog sitting. Nothing worse than dog face.
I too have suspected that bug you speak of. You are fantastic with words (and this isn't a case of merely returning encouragement). You are a clear thinker and you are well read and you see the humour in things and you can twist a phrase just dandily, thank you, plus you say no more than you need to (which is HUGE) and all of that makes it a delight to read your thoughts.
boobla.
Post a Comment