If you don’t mind a little light bloodletting, you can take cats to the vet, but I don’t recommend taking them anywhere else.  Cats are very suggestible when they want to be and there is no telling what could ensue when a vagrant plot enters their furry little minds.

The hairy tapestry begged to be taken to a performance of the Cirque de Soleil and would not be denied.  After being followed around by creatures with huge eyes brimming with tears of deprivation, pleading for “just this once”, I gave in and bought us all tickets after they promised on their nonexistent honor to be good kittens and stay right by me, don’t go anywhere dammit I mean it.

For once, they were true to their word and sat through the whole thing spellbound and were ominously silent all the way home.  I should have known it was far too good to be true.  for the next couple of nights, I could hear them out on the deck, muttering to one another, and once I heard a sentence that made the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention..”we can do this thing.”

All the next week,  cats from all over the neighborhood began showing up on the cat deck in the back of the house.  Dainty little Pewter from up the block. Yipes stripes from across the street, our friend Rusty’s cat, Big Fuzz, came drifting in accompanied by a large scruffy tom called Cheese…not for his love of dairy, but rather for his penchant for clambering around in small stands of trees, earning him the sobriquet”Cheese it, the copse”, shortened out of necessity to “Cheese”…But I digress.  At the end of the week it seemed that every cat in town was gathering in the back yard and one night they came trotting into the house, oh dear.  I try to be a good hostess but I did begin to worry a little.

Since cats are nocturnal, practice commenced at midnight every night and ended at about 2:30 a.m.  At first, it was just more muttering, interspersed with the occasional disagreement, hissing and a little growling, but eventually they settled down in earnest and I began to hear strange sounds…more hissing, the occasional soft thud of a cat hitting the floor, and once in awhile the odd “skrowwwwl!!!” but the sounds soon became more alarming…chairs being overturned,coffee tables rocking on their legs, and the crash-tinkle of breaking crockery.  In the mornings when I arose, however, all seemed as it had been when I retired.  hmmmm.

Two weeks went by in this manner and I was afraid to interfere, knowing as I do the penalty I pay for crossing the little demons.  It requires a good many paper towels and a liberal spraying of urine-gone on the tile floors.  at the end of the two week period, I was awakened by the hooting and squealing of cats in full success mode and ran to see if perhaps they had managed to reduce a portion of the roof to rubble or had reconstructed the furniture.  when I got into the living room, I saw the above photo which I was able to shoot before the whole tableau collapsed into chaos.


it was pretty impressive, I must say, and may it never happen again. but I don’t hold out much hope.  Posted by Susan

For more art, acrobatic and otherwise, visit Galerie Yggdrasil


Tags: , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: