For two weeks I've been apartment-sitting for a friend while she's in Singapore and New Zealand. She has two mischievous cats who sleep all day and are quite refreshed by the time I get home around 10pm. That's about the time they start chasing each other around the small apartment--skidding off tables and counters, "cat"-apulting off bookcases, and banging into anything in their path. This usually goes on until around 2am!
The past two years I've been cat-less, for the first time in my life. Even though I love dogs and all creatures, cats hold a special place in my heart. There's just something about their sleek, feline bodies and conniving little minds. . .
Last night I got home around 11:30 and was ready for bed an hour later. As I unfolded the futon and collapsed into the warm down comforter, I laid my head down on the little pillow and felt a hard lump. Lately I've taken to covering the pillow with a small towel to protect it from. . .well. . .cat bottoms. I had forgotten the towel was still there. Without turning on the light, I stuck my hand under it to see what was making the lump and felt something soft and furry. Zelda, the ocicat, had parked her toy mouse there.
I know it was Zelda because that's her kind of humor. She was probably sitting a cat's-tail-length away, waiting for the scenario to unfold, chuckling gleefully to herself as she awaited my reaction.
All her brother Hootie could manage was a disgusted "harrumph" at her cunning ploy for attention.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
That is so funny. I never knew cats had a sense of humor...
Post a Comment