Now that I have your attention: Just as I'd given up hope of Maluce &
Sylvie, the elder "girls" of the Evil 3, ever getting playful again or
stirring for anything besides a meal from their constant snoozing, a big
surprise tonight from both: making the largest bed, after thoroughly
laundering & bleaching under mattress/pillow covers (man, enough cat fur to
donate to that poor chemo therapy cat on dryer filter) I attempt to fit the
coverings and suddenly, from two directions, come the girls: zooming up onto
bed, lightning burrowing beneath all linens, popping up and out from under
only to zoom back up again. So amazed was I that distracted by this sudden
display of energy from the old gals (who, incidentally, can't stand each
other ordinarily), I didn't hear a crunching sound alternating with metallic
tinkle coming from l.r. at first. Giving up temporarily on the bedmaking
(girls still tearing up the fresh covers) I stagger out to see BT Rowdy
chowing down on my inch-high plastic Bronco player, with attached metal mesh
fob, which had fallen off my keys unnoticed it appears. Not wanting to
startle him and provoke his swallowing the thing, I stealthily approached
and carefully pried it out of his mouth, earning myself a hearty
blood-drawing bite on hand. I could just picture myself explaining to TED
this strange occupant of Rowdy's esophagus or worse airway, plus TED is from
North Dakota, a rabid Packers fan, and would never let me forget it if he
saved Mr. Rowdy's life with some maneuver which I'm sure would cost more
than a couple hundred $$ by retrieving this item. Whew.
Some nights, cats conspire to draw their slaves close to the brink of
madness.