the kitten chronicles - part 91

The boys are speed freaks. Not in the drug abuser sense. More like Usain Bolt times two in your living room. This is the normal result of every 2nd Wednesday. That being the day Gorette comes to clean the house and the fur brains are confined to quarters in Joanie's office. I even tape the door shut so they can't stage a prison break. By the time I release them from a day of intensive cat napping they have a lot of pent-up energy. Last night they tore around the house at one point both cats ran right across my chest at full speed giving me heart massage inadvertently. The sudden pounding of their paws across my rib cage was more startling than who Tyra kicked off ANTM last night. Goodbye Lydia! Or Kyra! Or whatever your name was. And blondie, you're next! Tales of rampant cats strike a chord of fear in my Mother. So she's suggested I put bells on their necks - so you'd know where they are at all times. Personally I think the constant jingling would drive me crazy. And if I was woken from a really tedious episode of America's Next Top Model by intense jingling I might think Santa was in my house. Which is OK at this time of year but in the summer would be super disorienting. So Jingle Cats is not happening anytime soon in Casa Big Cat. The surprise attack is more fun anyway. xxx dad