There must be something in the air.

Little Boy has been having trouble keeping his spots. First of all,
Senyah has a walker, with a drop-down plastic seat. This is a favorite
of all the cats, especially Little Boy. But Little Boy has some...
overlap, and occasionally rolls off.

There is also a large woven basket, full of yarn for Senyah's
crocheting. Little Boy managed to roust Dulce Mae from the basket.
only to have the basket tip over and fall on him. He did manage to get
out from under it, but at a significant loss of dignity. I believe
Dulce Mae was giggling at him.

Finally, near the back door is a desk. Near the desk is the plastic
container for the cat food. Near that is a big plastic ice chest. The
usual sequence of jumps is floor to ice chest to food box to desk to
kitchen counter, so I can be properly supervised in any kitchen
activities.

One of thos activities was filling food bowls. When I feed the cats, I
often leave the lid up on the cat food container until I'm finished.
This is usuall no problem.

This morning, I hear plop -> thud -> scramble, scramble, MEOW!

When I walk around the corner, I see Little Boy, nose down in the cat
food container, and not happy about it. He is scrabbling about in the
food, which constantly shifts beneath his feet. He obviously didn't
get the memo... I pick him up, close the lid, and cuddle him for
awhile before setting him carefully down on the cat food container.

And Dulce Mae is not immune.

Dulce Mae likes her running water. Whenever I go into the kitchen, she
jumps up near the sink, and requests that I turn on a slow stream of
water, which she laps up. This is fine, and I don't mind at all.

Today, she jumped up by the sink, and started to do one of those
loooong cat stretches, where her front paws were in the sink. Not
thinking, I turned the water on (she doesn't usually mind getting a
little water on her head). Today, however, she was just stretching,
and not expecting her devoted slave to turn water on.

Dulce Mae practically leaped sideways out of the sink, claws extended.
In my direction! Yikes!

I grabbed her, assured her it was all right, then waited until she
actually requested the water this time (grin).

Now, Buster likes to sleep on the bed. Occasionally, he will suddenly
jump up, run to the top of the shredder, and from ther leap into my
lap. I usually hear him, and adjust the lower hems of my shorts, so he
doesn't rip up my thighs with his claws.

This time, I didn't hear him coming, and he was atop the shredder and
leaping to the chair just as I was was rolling backwards to get up.
Buster started windmilling his front paws (at least that's how it
looked to me), and managed to grab an arm of the retreating chair,
just as I got up.

The chair spun halfway around while Buster hung on for dear life. This
was enough for Buster to decide the bed was far safer.

Little Feet has been doing well. He hasn't lost his dignity, he hasn't
had anyone else lose it for him. He just cuddles up on the couch when
I lay back to read, and purrs, saying, "I've been here much longer
than these bozos. I know what to watch out for (snicker)."

Hugs and Purrs,
Mark