We are leaving before dawn Tuesday morning for a week at the cabin. This, of course, guarantees that I will be grumpy. I do not do mornings.
The cats are not happy that we are leaving them to fend for themselves for a week. True, Brandi is a very nice kitty sitter, she knows how to fill a food dish, but it just isn't the same as having the regular slaves around.
Kitsu staged a farewell hooh-hah for us.
There was a plastic grocery bag filled with cans and small boxes to recycle sitting on the floor next the back door. Usually the cats totally ignore such things, but tonight, Kitsu decided to investigate. I was in the kitchen baking chocolate chip cookies for the cabin when I heard her rustling the bag.
"Kitsu, leave that alone!"
She must have jerked her head when it was stuck through one of the handles and suddenly realized that it had her around the neck.
Kitsu bolted from the kitchen like a fuzzy orange meteor, the bag bouncing against her ribs and legs, clattering and clanking. I took off after her calling, "Kitsu! Come here baby, I'll save you!"
Sachi heard the excitement and came bounding into the dining room to see what was going on as Kitsu sprinted into the living room, shedding cans and boxes in her wake. The rapidly emptying bag flapped like an angry ghost at Kitsu's flank, the remaining beer can thwacking against the walls and floor. Sachi leaped and twirled in joy as we chased Kitsu through the house.
With a loud crash, the final beer can came free of the bag and Kitsu teleported. That's the only explanation. She simply disappeared into thin air.
Sachi continued to bounce off the walls, a wild look of ecstasy on her face.
"Kitsu, Kitsu, where are you?" I called, visions of my cat strangled by a plastic sack dancing in my head.
"Did she come down here," I asked the Engineer, who was in his basement office.
"Huh?"
He hadn't heard any of the ruckus. I think the man is deaf in addition to having the sensitivity of a brick.
We both looked through the house without success until, finally, Kitsu appeared for a moment to glare at us and flip us the tail. There was no bag around her neck. That we found under the old spool bed.
I think, perhaps, Kitsu will no longer be sorry to see us go...
P.S. Back in a week.
2 comments:
ooooo teh poor scayred kitteh. if she not okay, she can sllep on my soft aplaca bed.
(dictated by my cats) (who are wrong)
Sachi wants to know if the invite extends to her too...
They are both purring and doing happy cat march at the thought of soft alpaca bed.
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