Yesterday when Miss Thing and I arrived home from our two-day jaunt to visit her auntie and uncle, we opened the door to the house and the TV was on... strange. I called hubby to see why he had left it on when he went to work. He said, "it was on when I came home last night too! Was 'Finding Nemo' playing this time, or the TV?" I told him it was the TV. He said that when he had come home to find Nemo playing, the TV remote had been upside down on the floor. I think we need to have the cats' brains scanned to see whether or not they're really felines.
Whose idea was it to get kittens anyway? We got these two adorable kitties in September from my sister-in-law. We named them Lois and Clark (after Lewis & Clark, the explorers, not as a Superman joke) The two of them were the entire first litter of one of her cats and after weaning them the mama went nuts-o on their furry little butts and kept trying to kill them - so they had to stick the mama cat outside (where she got pregnant again and her next litter was 5 kittens! Oy! She is fixed now...). Anyway, of course Miss Thing thinks that they are the best thing ever. She hugs them, kisses them, takes their toys away from them, lays on top of them until they have to scratch her to get her to move, and frequently pronounces them to be "the best kitties in the whole wide world."
But they're belligerent. They're 9 months old now, which I believe makes them teenagers in cat years. They've finished growing, I think, but they still run around like horses when they feel frisky, and have to be disciplined about scratching the furniture, and they still get up on tabletops and countertops. Now, let me tell you, they KNOW they're not supposed to get up on high surfaces that we use for food preparation and eating. They get up there in front of us just to piss us off. It might sound funny, but it's actually very maddening and nothing we try to use as discipline seems to help.
Yesterday Clark just kept jumping up on the kitchen counters in front of me. After shooing him down and chasing him off a few times, I finally got really pissed and scruffed him and took him to the garage, where I locked him in the cat carrier for a while. When I went to get him to bring him back in, he wigged and ran back out into the garage as soon as I got inside but before I could close the door - and his sister ran out there too. AUGH! I just closed the door and unplugged the garage door opener so hubby wouldn't accidentally let them out (they are indoor only kitties) and we left them overnight. We put some water and a litter box out there, but no food, and figured that no food and way more cold than they're used to, having been indoor kitties from birth, would make them think twice about EVER wanting to go out in the garage again.
This morning, no word from the kitties. We had intended to let them back in, but they're not coming. They're not even dignifying our queries with a meow. I think they might be under the house, but they shouldn't be able to get out from there. I guess they've just decided that they hate us and they're never coming back. Don't know what they think they're going to eat.
Oh well... whattaya gonna do. It can only make my life easier to just have to deal with ONE child today.
***Minutes after I posted the above, Miss Thing and I opened the door to the garage to check for the cats again and they came right in... and after inspecting the house to make sure we hadn't moved anything, and after Clark nearly hopped in the shower with me in his fervor to get some snuggles, they resumed their usual routine of galloping around the house and trying to tear each other's heads off. And Clark started getting up on the dining room table. Back to life as usual. Damn cats. Ha ha!
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