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Saffron has been feeling her oats lately. She has escaped down the front stairs to the cat-free zone several times, though she is very good at letting me pick her up and take her back upstairs, only turning her head upside down to look at me quizzically. She is a large and somewhat unwieldy cat, so she could make a lot more trouble if she liked.
Well, she does like, but struggling to make me put her down isn't one of her methods.
On the Eve of International Bad Cat Day, this iteration, I heard a clatter from the kitchen that did not belong there in the absence of humans. I went in to find Casssie and Saffron both sniffing at the sink drainer, which was on the floor. Very obsessive readers may recall that when I was making pies for Thanksgiving, Raphael and I found the sink drainer stranded in the middle of the kitchen floor. Cassie seldom jumps that high, so I assume that Saffron fished the drainer out and dropped it on the floor for reasons of her own.
This evening, as we often do on a Friday, Raphael and I ordered Chinese food. The restaurant had packed the dishes in the reverse of the usual order; the appetizers were on the bottom. We usually get shrimp in garlic sauce, the sauce of which is very viscous, clingy, and insinuating. It had already, from its position at the top of the stack of takeout dishes, leaked all over the inside of the bag and onto the other dishes and the packets of extra soy sauce and the fortune cookies in their wrappers. I ended up tearing the bag down one side to get at things without making quite such a mess. Then I rinsed some lids and Raphael wiped up some leaks, and we served ourselves. I then put the actual leftover food and rice into the refrigerator, but failed to realize that a torn bag with a lot of garlic sauce in it would be attractive to cats. When we came out of Raphael's office (where we retreat when we don't want cats marauding our food) with our empty plates, Raphael found the empty, torn wrapper of a fortune cookie on the floor of my bedroom, with the fortune lying nearby.
Having ascertained that none of the plastic seemed to have been eaten, Raphael picked up the fortune and burst out laughing. I took it and read, "Tomorrow you will find the item you have been searching for."
This struck us both as irresistibly funny. When we had stopped laughing, Raphael said, "I wonder which of them ate it."
"I would bet on Cassie," I said, "but I wouldn't bet much."
There was no question of who had taken the cookie out of the bag. That would be Saffron.
Pamela
Well, she does like, but struggling to make me put her down isn't one of her methods.
On the Eve of International Bad Cat Day, this iteration, I heard a clatter from the kitchen that did not belong there in the absence of humans. I went in to find Casssie and Saffron both sniffing at the sink drainer, which was on the floor. Very obsessive readers may recall that when I was making pies for Thanksgiving, Raphael and I found the sink drainer stranded in the middle of the kitchen floor. Cassie seldom jumps that high, so I assume that Saffron fished the drainer out and dropped it on the floor for reasons of her own.
This evening, as we often do on a Friday, Raphael and I ordered Chinese food. The restaurant had packed the dishes in the reverse of the usual order; the appetizers were on the bottom. We usually get shrimp in garlic sauce, the sauce of which is very viscous, clingy, and insinuating. It had already, from its position at the top of the stack of takeout dishes, leaked all over the inside of the bag and onto the other dishes and the packets of extra soy sauce and the fortune cookies in their wrappers. I ended up tearing the bag down one side to get at things without making quite such a mess. Then I rinsed some lids and Raphael wiped up some leaks, and we served ourselves. I then put the actual leftover food and rice into the refrigerator, but failed to realize that a torn bag with a lot of garlic sauce in it would be attractive to cats. When we came out of Raphael's office (where we retreat when we don't want cats marauding our food) with our empty plates, Raphael found the empty, torn wrapper of a fortune cookie on the floor of my bedroom, with the fortune lying nearby.
Having ascertained that none of the plastic seemed to have been eaten, Raphael picked up the fortune and burst out laughing. I took it and read, "Tomorrow you will find the item you have been searching for."
This struck us both as irresistibly funny. When we had stopped laughing, Raphael said, "I wonder which of them ate it."
"I would bet on Cassie," I said, "but I wouldn't bet much."
There was no question of who had taken the cookie out of the bag. That would be Saffron.
Pamela
no subject
Date: 2015-02-07 05:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-07 06:02 pm (UTC)When our cat is particularly bored--as he has been these last few chilly, snowy weeks--he'll sometimes hunt a piece of jewelry from the top of a dresser. Then I find necklaces or bracelets lying in the strangest places.
Sink drains are kind of heavy--Saffron is intrepid and strong.
no subject
Date: 2015-02-08 02:50 pm (UTC)I wonder what attracts Saffron to the drainer...
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Date: 2015-02-08 05:45 pm (UTC)I particularly liked "maraud" , because that's completely a mood of cats.
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Date: 2015-02-10 01:14 am (UTC)P.
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Date: 2015-02-17 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-02-17 08:48 pm (UTC)I am just as pleased that my cats haven't figured out how to attract mice. Ninja did once chase a baby potato under the sofa and abandon it there, but by the time it came to our notice, probably even a mouse would not have wanted anything to do with it.
P.