Not too long ago, the human bought yet another toy for Boris, who loses one or so a week. I tried getting bigger toys and they just sit in his toy cauldron. He loves these rainbow colored mice made of twine or something. I can’t find them anywhere anymore, so in desperation I got him a furry gray one.
I was sitting on the couch and saw Whiskey (pictured) in the alcove throwing the toy into the air and having a grand old time. I was so happy, I said, “Yay Whiskey, you like Gray Mouse.“ I used to be creative with toy names, but about the time the cat loses the twentieth one, the thrill is gone. I grabbed the camera, because Whiskey doesn’t play much anymore since advancing to mauling. “Get Gray Mouse. Good boy, Whiskey, get ‘em.”
The big lug paused to look at me beaming with pride. “That’s a good…wait….what…why is Gray Mouse moving on his own?” Yes, it was a real live mouse. People who know me probably see me as having super hero calm and bravery (yeah right), but you are wrong. I was out of flip-flops and into untied motorcycle boots in seconds. For good measure I was also armed with a cardboard box because paper cuts hurt.
Boris had now found Live Gray Mouse and I watched the sweetness fade from his eyes as the taste of the hunt took over. The festivities rapidly moved into the kitchen where I repeatedly clomped behind Boris in my boots trying not to trip over the laces while holding the cardboard box close to the ground. “Come on, Playing Dead or Dead Gray Mouse, get in the box.” It didn’t end well.
This morning, the cats are playing outside and every so often run in to make sure I am not relaxing or any such thing detrimental to their health. I grab a book and head out with them, hopping over Boris who is frantically playing with a stick. “Boris, bring it here. I’ll play with you….wait…..what….why is Mr. Stick moving on his own?’
That was my first encounter with a stick insect. I thought the cats had dosed my tea when I saw that thing start to walk.
I’m sure the ending of this story is not hard to figure out. The photo is not Whiskey playing with a dead mouse, but rather ignoring a stuffed fish I paid cold, hard cash for.
Today is soak the cat bowls and get them all clean and pretty without gagging while scrapping off canned cat food that hardened on them day. That's a really long name for a day.
Follow #CatNoriCC on Facebook and Instagram for daily posts.