Necessity, Not the Only Mother of Invention

As previously chronicled in this blog, I have three cats. Although, periodically they get up to loud, thundering mischief that makes it seem as if there are more than three of them. Because of previous, expensive antics of these characters around my toilets I'm quite fanatical about the lids being shut after each use. I have noticed recently that there's always at least one shadowing me during any venture to the land of excretion. This morning both boys cornered me for pets in the powder room. And now I know why, this morning after I deposited some coffee, levered my not inconsiderable backside off the pot and hear a small splash as I flushed. Of course, it's a game of volleymouse! With the well oiled grace of a jungle cat, I spun on my heel to see a toy mouse disappearing down the drain. Thinking quickly I thrust my hand into the cool recesses of the bowl to snag the mouse. But too late and now it's too stuck. Fortunately, I have an industrial strength plunger so I do manage to send the mouse toy further on its way to oblivion.

I understand that the cats might be bored, this is why I'm thinking boredom needs to receive more credit as the mother of invention.

Damn cats.

What They Don't Tell You About Cats...

When you get a cat, the powers that be in the cat bestowal business hip you up to the cat box business and concomitant smells, the canned food business and concomitant smells there. What they don't warn you about is the instinctive business of cats and how that wreaks havoc with any mice that might find their way indoors. This place is mainly carpeted but there is some linoleum about so when I've got 2 cats within eyeshot and the pitter patter of 2 sets of four feet on the linoleum I know we've got and intruder and with 3 cats, said intruder is close to toast. Also, mice scream, it sounds like keening (yeah, as in keening, wailing and gnashing teeth). That's not a happy sound. Then we got the triumphant stalking return of the cats, fortuitously for me none see fit to gift me with the carcass so I retrieve it and put it in the garbage can. (and yeah, sap that I am offer it Reiki and a chant or two to ease its Bardo (transition).

Puppy D

Yes, Puppy's middle initial D does stand for Dog. Because what other middle name would you have for a cat named Puppy? She is most oftern photographed with Vinnie a/k/a Stripe. She has a sinister streak that I very much admire. And a gift for demanding attention by batting one upside one's head.

Stripe a/k/a Vinnie

This is the big cat Stripe, he's wearing a cat version of a beater shirt so he was nicknamed Vinnie Bociagalupe. He just needs some bling around his neck.

The Shark

This is Sharkbutt. This is his baby picture, he's two now and just as cute but bigger and doesn't sit still for photos these days, as he's got Stripe and Puppy to annoy the crap out of regularly. He likes to groom them, which all things being equal is cute to observe, at least until the object of his grooming lodges an objection, and swats. Putting Neosporin on a cat is like teaching a pig to sing. Waste of time for both of you and annoying to both of you.