This is great… I’m relaxing in bed, typing away, and I don’t have to worry about dozing off, rolling over and accidentally strangling myself with any wires… Instead I can just lie here and listen to the cats banging around in the next room.
How can two smallish animals manage to make so many mysterious noises? And how do they manage to know what the most inconvenient time is to make noise?
They seem so graceful at first sight, yet they manage to knock things over an awful lot … It’s as if they can telepathically sense the perfect moment to distract their people from important things. If a human starts to suspect their plans, they’ll push a ceramic bowl off of a low shelf so that it lands and makes whub-whub-whub sounds as it rolls in tiny concentric circles. When you’ve recovered from the surprise your deep insight into their motive is gone and all you can ask are questions like “How many pipers piping is it?”
Last night the wierdos (that’s the group name for the two kitties) were shut away in their own room because we had some friends over who are allergic to cats. In the middle of conversation we’d hear strident meyowing from Isaac. He’s siamese. My fiancee claims that that breed has extra-dimensional lung capacity which allows them to make noises that could only be generated by a creature four to five times larger than the cat appears to be.
Of course, now that I’ve written that, I’ve got this awful vision of Dr. Who’s Tardis having been built entirely out of siamese cat lung tissue… But I digress.
I was going to write more about the cats, but Isaac just jumped up on the bed and started meowing. And I think Vandy is stomping up and down on bubble wrap or something. I need to go check that out…
So… Was it 11 leaping lords? Or was that the ladies dancing… I can remember how many rings…