The Cats are Fired

Argh! I went and called up a karma backlash the other day when I glibly said “Ever since we let the cats downstairs we haven’t had a cricket problem. Wow, that was about three years ago, aren’t our cats awesome! Tra-la-la!” But of course this weekend we noticed a rather loud chirruping and lo! We have a cricket somewhere in the basement. I think we noticed the phantom bugger Friday night and it’s still down there somewhere happily singing its stupid tune.

And the cats? Let’s just say that I work harder at housework than they do at cat work. Cricket? What? PET ME! Earlier this evening, I had had it UP TO HERE with the ‘criiiip criiiiip criiiip’ so I went downstairs and did the Find the Cricket Dance with intent to squish the motherfucker.

In case you were wondering, the Find the Cricket dance goes like this: Walk down the stairs and try to spontaneously develop echolocation. Fail. Stop dead on the stairs, pretty sure that you can at least identify the quadrant of the basement the cricket is in. Curse the cricket quietly for going mum because you need more happy cricket chatter to get a precise reading. Wait. Confirm quadrant when cricket starts up again, walk a couple steps in that direction. Stand still as cricket goes mum. Decide that cricket is either behind the freezer or washer, possibly the dryer but you can’t tell for sure until it makes more noise. Which it isn’t. Then it does. Rule out the dryer, take a couple steps, wait. Curse. Decide that the cricket is really behind the freezer when it starts up again. Look behind the freezer for cricket, who has shut up. Again. Do not find cricket. Decide cricket is actually under the freezer. Give up, turn around, find the cat who has been sitting on the laundry the whole time, possibly for a couple hours as she’s been gone for a bit. Fire cat on the spot.

So yeah. Little furballs? Not on my A-list. I keep threatening to bring in a kitten who will gleefully hunt down my cricket problem AS A CAT IS SUPPOSED TO DO. As a reward for this kitten’s devotion to its hunter instinct, I will lavish it with love and scritchies. Preferably in plain view of my slacker cats. TheMan did say that the Little Kitty, who was the laundry sitter above, was hunting crickets when I sent him down to deal with the Cricket in Times Freezer. I’m not convinced by that; she was awfully comfy looking there on the blankets. I think the cricket was serenading her.

2007: Looking for new cats and not updating.

2006: I have TWO dimensions, thankyouverymuch.

2005: Fuckin’ furballs keeping me from updating.

2004: again!

2003: I never turned in an outline for either of my term papers in High School and all my college papers I crafted entirely up in my noggin. Actually, that’s a really scary thought.

2 Responses to “The Cats are Fired”

  1. TeacherPatti Says:

    Tell Vande that Aunt Patti is VERY disappointed in her. My dog will eat the crickets though, if you want 🙂

  2. Boo Says:

    That seemed to work, cricket has been gone for a couple days now. Huzzah Buddy!

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