Good Morning View

Dear Readers-
Good morning! I hope you slept well last night. What do you wake up to? Breakfast in bed, the pitter patter of little feet, a cup of coffee handed to you by your mate?

This is what I wake up to.

Max. Weird, fuzzy, dirty, stinky, Max.

More often than nought, Max refuses to get up when the humans are ready to get up. He has a lot of business during the night, and enjoys wreaking havoc from about midnight to 3am.

Understandably, he’s passed out at 5am when the alarm goes off. His pink little eyes just squint back at me and he says, “Really?!” (with his eyebrows), then tucks his head back under his paw and sighs.

I feel a hint of disgust coming from his furry body. It’s kind of a crappy way to wake up if you ask me.

Summer Kitty Fight Club

I have notice the kittens have an adverse reaction to the heat. We spend three hours outside almost every morning trying to curb their voracious appetite for destruction. While I write, they attack butterflies, stalk crickets, and tick off squirrels.

You’d think they would come in exhausted and ready for some treats and a nap. No luck. They are training for some secretive fight clubs we humans are not privy to.

Max weighs approximately 10 pounds more than Bianca. So his defense is domination.

Bianca’s is one of supposed submission only to suddenly kick her opponent with her back rabbit feet and toss Max onto his butt. (If cats had butts, that is.)

That only dissuades Max momentarily. After a tense minute or two as he sizes up the situation…

…he pounces, bear hugs and rolls the two of them around like a burrito of fur. It’s a pretty exciting way to pass a few minutes until the both are tuckered out and go to their respective corners.

Max has been shunning treats, as of late. Bianca has been cutting back on her food intake. I have a feeling this training is getting pretty serious. And it has an end goal.

I just hope the end goal is not to take over the humans like I’ve always feared. But, if I have to be ruled by someone/something-being ruled over by a cute furry cat isn’t a bad way to go. Don’t you think?

The Fireplace Incident

I was working away in my office (my office at home-what do you think-I leave the house? HA!) when I heard a distinct thump in the living room, cat claws skidding out on the hardwood floor, a rustling of some plastic substance and then–silence.

Curious, but not unaccustomed to such shenanigans, I made my way out to find the reason for the scuffle. Nothing in the house seemed to be destroyed, knocked over or out of place-this time.

That’s when my “cat-dar” went up. After much searching, I only located a very wigged out Max, hiding on the top ledge in the bathroom.

Look at the size of those pupils.

His tail was puffed out and upon further inspection, which I later regretted-was found to be sticky and wet.

Ew.

After several minutes of calling for Bianca, this little lady greeted me by the front door.

Ms. Perfect White Pants was covered in soot, head to toe.

Now, Ms. Bianca will vacate the house and hide in the dirty chimney in order to escape one of three things:

1. Kayle’s drumming
2. Small, Noisy Children
3. An unnamed source on this day in question

And the story began to unfold….

I decided to inspect the amount of soot she must have brought down with her from a romp in the chimney, and assess vacuuming vs sweeping.

If you’ll notice, in the upper left hand corner of the fireplace, there is something protruding from the chimney.

A Wal-mart bag was hanging out of, and partially stuck inside of the chimney. I had known one of my earlier grocery bags went mysteriously missing this morning.

I’m weird that way.

Secondly, the hearth was covered in wet, sticky residue-reminiscent of Max’s tail.

Upon removing the bag, one can easily see it had been ripped to shreds.

And Bianca returned to the scene, trying to cover up whatever it was she did with her little sooty paws.

Max would not join either of us for the rest of the day. He stayed perched on his ledge, with wigged out eyes if Bianca ever entered the room.

The Nancy Drew side of me wanted to know the full story. Someone knows something-but no one was talking-to me or to each other. I will just have to chalk this up to an unsolved case.

Christmas Clean-Up

It’s time for it to come down. The tree, the holly, the mistletoe, the lights. All of it.
Granted, I have been listening to and enjoying Christmas music since before Thanksgiving. But, it’s time for all of it to be packed up into boxes and stored away in the attic.

 

I have had my fill of keeping the cats away from the tree, closing them off from certain parts of the house, or cringing when I hear an ornament hit the floor.
So, I start off by corralling all of my Christmas miscellany onto the dining room table. There are jars, platters and dishes full of bulbs, balls, and tinsel.

After pouring a glass of wine, I turn on Billie Holiday and assess my opponents.

 

I can never remember how I got all of that into there.
Max and Bianca entertain themselves as they jump in and out of the empty boxes and chase the run-away tinsel.

 

Certain guilty parties incriminate themselves over and over…

 

…and over.

 

Our Christmas ornaments span the years-beginning with my first out-of-college roommate and I co-investing in maroon and gold ornaments purchased from Wal-mart. We spent $5 between us to decorate our tree. That was high-living for us back then.

 

Now, black and white Ikea balls, along with sparkling blue and silver ornaments have been added to the Christmas decor mix. Throw in a dash of Grandma’s vintage ornaments, vintage deer from the flea market and our yearly ornament purchase, and I am running out of uses for all of them.

 

Soon, everything is packed away, taped up and ready for next year’s frivolities. It almost feels as if Christmas had never happened.
Except for the tinsel I keep finding squirreled away in nooks and crannies due in part to my weird cats Bianca and Max.
I don’t think they can let Christmas go either. I suppose we are good for each other.