I got up to fix dinner, just as Buster came in to sit in my lap. So I
carried him into the kitchen with me, and sat him on the counter where
he could see what's going on.

There is a microwave popcorn bowl on the upper part of the two-level
counter. On top of this bowl is our collection of hot-pads. This is
where Buster chose to rest his poor, tired bones (grin). Being that
his seat was soft, I don't doubt he was comfortable.

I got the oven preheated, and dinner started, then went to sit in the
living room while it cooked. I'm very relaxed, and reading the
newsgroup on my handheld.

Suddenly, there is a series of loud, scary noised from the direction
of the kitchen. Senyah looks up and says "Buster". I look up and,
agreeing with her, say "Buster". Little Feet, who is sitting on the
arm of the chair by the window, looks up and meows what I can only
assume is "Buster. What a dweeb."

Senyah says that she saw a grey streak fly into the bedroom. She also
tells me that he had knocked his bowl of food over when he went to sit
on my lap.

I get up, take a glance into the bedroom, and Buster is sitting on my
magazines, which are on Senyah's jewelry box, which is on the dresser,
and Buster looks very sheepish.

I go into the kitchen, and find the microwave bowl on the counter, its
lid on the floor, and the wooden knife block on the desk in the
hallway.

I put things aright, and go into the bedroom to comfort Buster. I kiss
his head, skritch his ears, and tell him that it's all okay.

I go back into the living room for a moment, hear a light "thump" from
the bedroom, and check on Buster again. One of my magazines is at an
angle. Buster is on the bed. Apparently , the evil magazine shifted
under him, and dumped him off the jewelry case, onto the bed.

It's pretty obvious that he'll need a bite or two of my corndog when
it's cooled (grin).

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark