monitorkitty

The kitty land bridge reopened last night after a hot summer of air conditioning, and the mass migration of three felines between two open windows was epic in scope.

Sadly, the land bridge was our bed and the migration began in earnest at 4:15 a.m. and continued unabated until 9.

Highlights of the migration included a most dramatic shadow puppet play behind the curtains, staged especially for us at 6:20 a.m. There was also a tense moment when two migrants launched a frontal assault on Scylla the pioneer, who had clearly read the ‘Art of War’ and maintained the high ground most valiantly.

And loudly.

By 7:40, civilized behavior had returned and the migration took on a more organized aspect, with each cat waiting his or her turn to be in any given window. This did not preclude, however, the opportunity to swat each of us in the face repeatedly so that we might be awake to see the civility we had been asking for all night.

Ah….don’t you just love autumn?

white cat plus dark blue carpet equals…

well…certainly more vacuuming than I’ve ever done…..

So let me tell you about moving and cats. I feel that I’m an expert on this subject as a)we have moved and b)we have cats.

So moving day dawns and we herd the cats into the master bathroom for a fun filled day of feline angst. The movers arrive just before 8 a.m. – and to make matters even more interesting – there’s a nor’easter blowing.

In June.

Anyway. Not long into the move, one of the moving guys takes a break and says to me: “Ma’am, I’m not sure what your cats are doing, but I’ve heard howling, loud banging noises, stuff being swept off the counter….and then the water came on….”

I took the stairs two at a time.

At this point, the cats had apparently organized, and were attempting, not wholly unsucessfully, to pull the vacuum cleaner under the bathroom door. They had managed to force the plug through the opening under the door and had pulled the entire power cord into the bathroom. When I arrived, they were in the process of banging the vacuum cleaner into the door repeatedly – protesting the less than optimal conditions in which they found themselves. I extracted the remains of the vacuum from their clutches and watched as a defiant paw came out from under the door and gestured menacingly.

I still can’t explain how they turned on the water.

Anyway – 8-1/2 hours, more angst, and two moving trucks later, the movers and Jim headed to the new homestead.

I remained behind ready to handle whatever I found behind the bathroom door.

So I open the door.

Three cats had gone into the room. Only one came out.

That’s when I noticed that the sink was staring at me.

Good. Two cats, one slightly damp.

Finally, I opened the cabinet where apparently the other two had placed the third.

In all – it went pretty well. No bloodshed, a fair amount of flying fur, and a nascent Cat Union that I’ll have to bust up.

They think that they’ll be renegotiating their contract….but I’ve found a great deal on kibble…….

There is a certain je ne sais quoi that comes with being awakened hours before one intends by a cat full of ear mites.

Correction: three cats full of ear mites.

Yet that is exactly what transpired yesterday morning when Sumi decided to excavate her ear.

On my head.

It is difficult to express how many showers and loads of laundry and repeated vacuumings have to occur after such an event. Especially after the veterenarian shows you an ear mite in the microscope. A great huge hulking armor-plated beastie fully intent upon evil filled the entire eyepiece. Certain that the mites were already carrying out their plan for world domination by using chez Holloway for a staging area, we began our counter-assault upon them.

Soon, the house began taking on the appearence of the Russian Front – yet smelled lemony fresh. Cats hid in every conceivable place – feeling very much like Poland in the mites’ attempt at establishing a Fourth Reich here.

But we will prevail.